


glowing in the dark

by themoonsneverseenmebefore



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Human Catra (She-Ra), Human Light Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Smut, there's smut in chapter 3 but you can skip it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 39,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonsneverseenmebefore/pseuds/themoonsneverseenmebefore
Summary: Adora and Catra were best friends in high school.Catra burned that bridge. Adora grieved. That was the end of it.Until they end up in the same English lit class in college, that is.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 198
Kudos: 951





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiii! This is a college AU with flashbacks to high school when adora and catra were best friends. Chapter one goes back and forth between college and high school, but the second chapter will exclusively focus on them in college. This fic will be two chapters, three max!
> 
> Those Nights by Skillet inspired me which might be embarrassing if I were capable of feeling shame. Luckily I’m not lmao
> 
> A lot of the tags refer to the second chapter instead of the first, but I wanted to go ahead and put those there so people have a heads up. I'll add more tags/update the rating as it's needed
> 
> HUGE thank you to my friend Vanessa for beta-ing and brainstorming with me and answering every inane question I had about her high school experience
> 
> I had the time of my life writing this lol hope you enjoy!

It’s an uncharacteristically chilly morning on Catra’s first day at Bright Moon University.

It rained all day yesterday, and it’s early, not even 7:30 yet, and there’s fog across the ground as Catra makes her way across campus to her first class of semester. She threw on a scarf with her leather jacket before leaving the apartment, and she pulls it up over her nose as she remembers Scorpia’s cheerful, “have a _great_ first day!” as Catra left for class. She smiles a little at the memory. She’s not a morning person, but Scorpia definitely is, and it was kind of nice to have that sendoff before leaving.

Catra is nervous. This is her junior year, but it feels like her first all over again. She and Scorpia and Entrapta just moved into their new place right off of BMU’s campus after doing their first two years at Etheria Community College, but Catra is the first of their friend group to have a class here since they transferred. Scorpia and Entrapta don’t have their first classes until tomorrow afternoon.

“I’m counting on you to give me a full report on your classroom experience when you get home,” Entrapta told her at dinner last night.

Catra had commented that her classes as an English major and Entrapta’s as a physics and computer science double major probably won’t resemble each other much at all, but Entrapta insisted, so Catra agreed.

Catra knows it’s mostly because Entrapta is nervous about starting at BMU, too, so she’s trying to be patient with her friend. She owes her that. She’s been working hard the last year and a half to be a better friend to Scorpia and Entrapta. She cares about them a lot. Loves them, if she’s honest. So, she’s going to give Entrapta the full report she wants, whatever that means.

Catra finds the tall, imposing brick building that her British literature class is in, and it doesn’t take her long to find the classroom. She sits down at the end of a row about halfway through the room: not the very back, but definitely not the front. That’s where she usually feels best.

The professor has already been calling roll when a late-arriving student in a BMU athletics hoodie bursts through the classroom door, head down and face obscured by the hood, quickly sitting down in an empty chair in the second to front row.

Catra doodles in the margins of her notebook, trying to stay calm. They’re only in the D’s, so Catra’s not paying much attention. Her name won’t come up til the end, if not the very end. 

She’s not paying attention, that is, until she hears a familiar name.

“Adora Gray?” the professor calls.

And then the reply, in a familiar voice.

“Here.”

Catra’s head snaps up.

The student who was late has pulled the hood of her sweatshirt off to reveal long, tawny blonde hair in a braid down her back.

Catra’s heart hammers in her chest.

_No. No, no, no, no._

Of course. Of _course_. She has no idea how this happened. Adora hates writing. But, Adora _does_ love to read, and she always did so well on their oral presentations in high school. But whenever it came time to write final papers, it was all Catra could do to talk her down from near panic attacks when Adora struggled with the difference between “affect” and “effect.”

Catra is broken out of her meditation on the past by hearing her own name called.

“Catrina Weaver?”

Catra clears her throat quickly, and she’s proud of herself for managing to speak without a tremor in her voice.

“Here.”

 _Unfortunately_.

Catra can’t help it, can’t help her burning curiosity and flicks her eyes to where Adora sits several rows ahead of her. Adora is looking right at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted, as she stares at Catra in disbelief.

Catra stares back, frozen.

Adora turns back around and crosses her arms. She starts jiggling her left leg and the familiarity of that tic makes Catra’s stomach pitch.

30,000 students at this school, and she ends up in the same English lit class as her ex . . . best friend? Ex . . . something.

Something.

The professor has started speaking again, and Catra forces herself to pay attention to the professor reading through the syllabus, forces her brain to push past memories she thought she’d successfully repressed.

“I’m going to go ahead and put you into pairs,” the professor continues. “You’ve been paired randomly because that seems to be the most fair way to do it, so no complaints, _please_. The person you’re paired with will be your presentation and peer review partner for the rest of the semester, okay?”

The professor starts calling names and people find their partners, sitting together and beginning to talk.

The professor calls out Catra’s name, and then Adora’s name. Together.

 _This is some kind of sick, cosmic joke_.

Adora looks back at Catra from the front of the room and Catra stares back at her, glued to her seat. But Adora gets up and walks toward Catra, slinging her backpack over one shoulder, and Catra really, truly, in every way would like to disappear into the ether, cease to exist, be swallowed by the ground. Anything.

But this cruel joke the universe has seen fit to play on Catra continues, and Adora unceremoniously plops down into the seat next to Catra. 

She doesn’t say anything, and neither does Catra.

“Alright, everybody,” the professor says. “I want you to introduce yourself to your partner now. Write down your name, your major, where you’re from, and your favorite book, if you have one. Then we’ll be done for the day. Easy!”

Adora exhales softly next to Catra.

“I guess we don’t have to do most of that.”

“No, I guess we don’t,” Catra says, and she’s shocked her voice is steady. Her insides are churning.

Adora finally turns to her, and Catra can barely make herself look into Adora’s gray-blue eyes.

“So. What’s your major?”

“English.”

Adora nods. “So _not_ finance.”

“No, _god_ , no.”

Adora smiles slightly at that.

“What’s yours?” Catra asks. 

“Kinesiology.”

“Sounds intense.”

“I like it.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

 _Someone end this suffering_.

The universe decides to be merciful to Catra for the first time since class started and the professor calls for the students’ attention to announce the readings for next class. 

“Oh, and before I forget, _please_ exchange contact info with your partner. Phone numbers, emails, whatever, just make sure you can contact each other.”

 _Shit_.

The professor dismisses them then and everyone packs up quick, trading phones back and forth to exchange numbers and then scurrying out of the classroom.

Catra and Adora both stand up to gather their things, and Adora turns to Catra again, hesitant.

“Do—do you have a phone?”

“Yeah, yeah, I have a phone. Here.”

Catra reaches into her jacket pocket for her phone and then hands it to Adora who types her number in, handing it back to Catra.

“I’ll text you so you have my number, too.”

Adora nods. “Sounds good.”

Catra feels awkward and she has no idea what she’s going to text to _Adora_ of all people, not after more than three years of not being friends, and more than two of radio silence.

So she says the stupidest thing that comes into her head.

“The braid is new.”

 _Oh, my god, shut up_.

Adora plays along, though.

“So are your bangs.”

“Yeah.”

“You always said you’d never get bangs.”

“Things change, I guess.”

Adora looks her up and down, then rests on her eyes. “Not everything, apparently.”

Catra is confused, but she’s still in too much shock from the physical reality of Adora, _here_ , in front of her, to ask any follow up questions. Adora holds Catra’s gaze for a moment, then gives a little jolt, like she felt a chill no one else did. 

“I have to go.”

Adora turns to walk away before Catra can reply.

That’s when Catra remembers that the scarf she’s wearing is the one Mara gave her all those years ago.

\------

Adora always thought that if she ever saw Catra again, she might cry, or scream, or throw her arms around her, or demand answers, or maybe do all of those things.

But when Catra is actually in front of her after all this time, Adora can’t do much of anything. She feels robotic, like she’s on autopilot, like she’s watching someone else go through the motions for her.

And it’s all of it that makes her feel this way, seeing Catra appear like she’s not supposed to be a ghost from Adora’s past, like it’s completely normal for them to be in the same classroom at 8 am on a Tuesday morning.

They only talk about their majors. Adora sure as hell already knows Catra’s name. She knows where Catra’s from because they’re from the same hometown, Etheria, only half an hour from BMU, even though it feels like another world. She knows Catra’s favorite book, too, unless that’s changed. It’s probably changed. 

That thought makes her sad.

English, though. She can’t help but be happy for Catra about that. She doesn’t know what happened, but clearly Catra managed to hop off the conveyor belt to business school or whatever the hell it was Catra’s mom was always so intent on for her. And what is Catra doing here, anyway? It’s a big school, sure, but if Catra’s been going to BMU for the last two years, wouldn’t Adora have run into her at some point?

The walk home from class goes faster than usual because of her jumbled thoughts and Adora is back at her dorm before she knows it. She uses her student ID to swipe into the building and tries to pull herself together before she gets to her and Glimmer’s two-bedroom suite. She doesn’t want to talk about this right now, and especially not to Glimmer, who already knows the whole sad, sorry tale of Adora and Catra in high school.

Adora looks down at her phone. There’s no new messages, but Catra has her number now. 

_Will she use it, though?_

Adora shakes her head at the absurdity of the thought. Of course she will. Catra doesn’t have a choice. They’re partners now and they have to work together. It’s for class, so they’ll have to text each other occasionally.

Adora glances at her phone again.

No new messages.

She sighs and walks into the suite.

\------

Adora and Catra meet on their first day at Etheria High. 

They have biology and English together, and Adora notices the girl with the bright, mismatched eyes, one blue and one gold, with big, curly, dark brown hair sitting next to Lonnie right away, but they don’t talk until Adora sits down next to her in English class.

Their teacher tells them to get into pairs to discuss their plans for the first assignment: a short narrative about what they did over the summer. They’re supposed to brainstorm together.

Adora turns to the girl next to her who’s sitting slumped back with her arms crossed and smiles.

“Hi! I’m Adora.”

Catra doesn’t smile back, but she uncrosses her arms and sits up a little bit.

“Hi. I’m Catra.”

Catra’s sort of mesmerizing, and Adora knows she’s staring, but she can’t stop.

“What?” Catra snaps.

“Nothing,” Adora says quickly, realizing she’s definitely been staring too long. “So . . . what did you do over the summer?”

“I moved here with my mom. Took tennis lessons at the country club.”

“Oh, cool!” Adora’s never even been near the country club. “I play soccer. Do you like tennis?”

Catra shrugs. “It’s okay. Are you going to play soccer here?”

“I hope so! I really want to be a striker.”

Catra nods, and Adora is wondering if she knows what that means when Catra speaks.

“So, what did you do this summer?”

“I did soccer camp here in town. I wanted to be a lifeguard, too, but you have to be 15 to do that,” Adora says. “Do you like Etheria so far?”

“I haven’t seen much of it yet, honestly,” Catra says.

“I can show you around! I’ve lived here my whole life.”

Adora is rewarded for her persistence by a very tiny smile from Catra.

“That would be cool.”

Adora is thrilled.

“Great! I’ll show you all my favorite places.”

Catra smiles more now, and Adora thinks it’s a really nice smile.

“Okay,” Catra says.

And that’s the start of it.

\------

Three weeks later, Catra goes over to Adora’s house for the first time. Three weeks since Catra started thinking that maybe moving here isn’t so bad after all.

Adora’s house is a pretty, light yellow, cottage-style house with a swing on the front porch and potted flowers lining the front steps. It looks lived in and homey.

Catra loves it instantly and desperately.

“It was my Grandma Razz’s house,” Adora explains as they walk up to the front porch. “I grew up here. She’s gone now, so it’s just me and my mom, but the house helps. I still feel like . . . she still fills it up, somehow.”

Adora blushes and looks down.

“Maybe that’s stupid, I don’t know.”

“It’s not stupid,” Catra says quickly.

 _Nothing about you is stupid_ , Catra wants to say, but she feels awkward, not sure if Adora will understand what she means.

Adora gives her a big smile. Adora’s smile is always ready and genuine, and she turns it on Catra all the time without hesitation. It makes Catra want to smile back, even though she rarely feels that way otherwise.

“Come on, my mom’s off work today, so you get to meet her.”

Catra doesn’t like meeting people’s parents. They make her nervous. But she follows Adora into her house anyway.

“What does she do?”

“She’s a night shift nurse at the hospital.”

“So she’s gone all night sometimes?”

“Yeah, but our neighbors keep an eye on me, so it’s fine. Mama?” Adora calls out into the house.

“In here, my love!”

Adora walks towards the back of the house and the voice that just spoke, and Catra follows. They end up in the kitchen, a cozy room painted eggshell blue that faces the small backyard. There’s a light catcher in the window that’s casting rainbows across the hardwood floor in the late afternoon light.

Adora’s mom is standing by the kitchen sink peeling an orange. She’s tall, and beautiful, and her long, dark brown hair is in a high ponytail down her back. She looks young. Catra remembers Adora saying that her mom had her when she was still in college.

“Hi, Mama. This is my friend, Catra. Catra, this is my mom, Mara.”

Mara turns a bright smile toward Catra.

“Hello, Catra! It’s wonderful to meet you. Do you want an orange?”

Catra feels shy in a way similar to how she felt when she first met Adora. They’re both so friendly, like they’re not holding back from you. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Ms. Gray. And no, thank you, I’m good.”

“Oh, no, no, call me Mara! Let me know if you want anything to eat or drink, you’re welcome to anything in here.”

Mara gives Catra that warm smile again and Catra smiles back. She’s starting to feel more comfortable now.

“So, what are you girls doing this afternoon?” Mara asks.

“I’m going to show Catra my room, and then we’ll do some homework,” Adora replies.

“Sounds good, baby. You’re welcome to stay for dinner of course, Catra.”

“I’ll have to ask my mom,” Catra says, tugging on the ends of her fingers.

“Of course. Just let me know!”

Catra nods and then Adora is pulling her arm and leading her towards the stairs to her room. They make their way up the narrow staircase with a low ceiling, stepping over a pile of medical textbooks Catra assumes belong to Mara.

Adora’s bedroom is at the top of the stairs, door wide open, and it looks like something exploded. By Adora’s lack of explanation, Catra assumes that’s normal. But, much like Adora herself, the room is bright and sunny and makes Catra feel . . . safe.

Adora’s bed is hastily made up, a fluffy white comforter over light blue sheets and two pillows stacked one in front of the other against the headboard. There’s a small stuffed horse leaning against the pillows that looks like it’s been around for a long time. In fact, there’s a lot of . . . horse stuff in general. 

On a shelf above Adora’s small desk there’s a few horse figurines surrounded by pictures of Adora and Mara throughout Adora’s life, along with pictures of an elderly woman with frizzy white hair and big eyes behind enormous glasses that Catra guesses must be Adora’s Grandma Razz. There’s a unicorn poster on the wall next to the desk. There’s a few piles of clothes on the ground, but there’s a distinct path from Adora’s bed to her closet that looks intentional. 

When Catra looks up, she sees that the ceiling is covered in glow in the dark stars.

Catra realizes now that Adora is watching her look around.

“I like it,” Catra says simply. She means it.

“I mean, it’s a lot of horse girl stuff for my taste,” she continues, grinning at Adora, “but I like it.”

Adora grins back at her. 

“Hey, I like my horse girl stuff.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “Come on, we better get started on this homework.”

Adora clears a spot on the floor and they sit down with their backpacks, pulling out books and papers and pencil cases. 

Catra eventually calls her mom to ask if she can stay for dinner. She doesn’t want to leave yet. 

“Hello?” Her mom already sounds distracted.

“Hi, mom.”

“Are you home from school?”

“No, I went over to a classmate’s house to study, remember?”

“Yes, that’s right. Well, what is it?”

“They asked me to stay for dinner. Can I?”

“Be polite and don’t ask for anything. And don’t slouch at the table.”

“I know what to do,” Catra says, just barely allowing an edge to her voice.

“Catra.” It’s a warning.

Catra breathes in deep and exhales before answering. 

“I will.”

“Good. Be home no later than 8.”

Her mom hangs up, and Catra breathes a sigh of relief.

So Catra stays, and she sits at the kitchen table with Adora and Mara and watches the easy way they interact with each other, the way they hug each other for no reason, the way Mara kisses Adora’s forehead when she gets up to get more water, the way Adora tells Mara all the mundane details of her and Catra’s day at school and Mara listens with rapt attention.

Mara turns to Catra to ask her questions about the day, too, about what she did and what she thought about it. Catra can tell Mara is listening to her answers.

Catra watches all of it, drinking it in, storing it away as if she’ll need it later.

It’s the first of many, many nights like this.

\------

Adora is eating dinner with Bow and Glimmer at Bow’s and Sea Hawk’s apartment when she gets a text from a number she doesn’t recognize.

  
  


**(7:36 pm): Unknown Number**

_hey, it’s me_

  
  


Adora squints at her phone.

  
  


**(7:38 pm): Adora**

_hi, me_

**(7:39 pm): Unknown Number**

_oh sorry, this is catra_

  
  


Adora chokes on her pasta. “Oh, _fuck_.”

“What? What is it?” Glimmer asks.

Adora hastily puts her phone facedown on the kitchen table. 

“Uh, nothing.”

Gimmer gives her that look Adora has become all too accustomed to. The “you’re full of shit and we both know it” look.

“You’re a bad actress, Adora.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on, who is it?”

“It’s no one!”

“It’s clearly _someone_ ,” Bow says through a mouthful of spaghetti.

“Yeah, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Glimmer says.

 _I feel like I did_.

Adora sighs. “It’s Catra, okay?”

Bow and Glimmer are both stunned, eyes wide. Glimmer’s mouth is hanging open.

“ _Catra_ , Catra? As in, your best friend in high school, Catra?” Bow asks.

Glimmer’s eyes narrow. “As in Catra who was a huge fucking bi—” 

“ _Yes_ , Catra from high school,” Adora interrupts, not wanting to let Glimmer get started. “She’s in my English lit class.”

Bow shakes his head quickly, still trying to understand. “Wait, what? She goes here? Since when?"

“I honestly have no idea.”

Glimmer still isn’t satisfied. “Well, why is she texting you?”

Adora sighs. “We got paired up to work together for the rest of the semester.”

“Are you okay?” Bow asks, his voice all care and concern.

Adora nods, probably too quickly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a class.”

Bow doesn’t look like he believes her, but he doesn’t press her for more. He can tell when Adora’s not ready to talk about something. He’s good like that.

Glimmer is less attuned to that in particular. 

“Well, what are you going to do?” Glimmer asks.

“Text her back, I guess.”

“I don’t like this,” Glimmer says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

“It’s fine.”

“But—”

“Glimmer, please. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Eat your pasta.”

Glimmer sighs, then puts her hands up, letting it go for the moment. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day in class, Adora decides she’s going to sit next to Catra. When she does, Catra looks a little shocked, but she recovers quickly.

“Morning,” Adora says. She feels shy.

“Morning,” Catra replies, sitting up straight.

They’re silent for a minute, but it’s not too awful, thankfully.

Catra pulls a pack of gum in a bright red package out of her backpack, taking a piece and popping it into her mouth. She holds the package out to Adora.

“Want one?”

“Sure, I’ve never tried this kind.”

“It’s cinnamon. Kind of strong, too, if you’re not used to it.”

Adora pops the gum into her mouth anyway. It only takes a few seconds for her tongue to start stinging. She chews more slowly now, trying to get used to it.

“You look like you’re low key suffering,” Catra says.

“No, this is good,” Adora says as her eyes water. “It’s waking me up.”

Catra laughs. “Adora. Spit it out.”

So she does, into the gum wrapper, sticking her tongue out and shaking her head a little bit from the lingering taste. “Ugh, god, thank you.”

Catra is quietly shaking with laughter next to her, and soon Adora joins her, and they’re giggling when class starts. It feels natural in a way that Adora doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to question.

The next class, Catra holds out a pack of spearmint gum to Adora, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Truce?”

Adora takes a piece of the offered gum and smiles.

“Truce.”

\------

Adora does become a striker. And in their sophomore year, it’s for the EHS varsity soccer team.

She’s a star instantly.

Catra goes to every one of her games with Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio, and the five of them comprise a bit of an unusual group of friends. Adora’s on the soccer team, of course, Catra’s a reluctant country club tennis player, Lonnie’s on the wrestling team, Rogelio runs track, and Kyle . . . honestly, Catra isn’t sure what Kyle’s deal is, but Rogelio likes him, so they all hang out. 

Adora’s known them all forever, since kindergarten or something, and they kind of just let Catra into the fold when she and Adora started hanging out freshman year. They all get on Catra’s nerves plenty of the time, but that’s also because it’s kind of easy for _most_ people who aren’t Adora to get on Catra’s nerves. Mostly it’s cool, though, having a group like this.

Girls and boys alike start swooning over Adora, and Adora doesn’t notice sometimes. For a while Catra thinks Adora might be trying to be modest, but she eventually figures out that Adora’s a little oblivious, and even when she does notice the attention, it makes her really self-conscious. Catra runs interference for her, blocking some of the more persistent male admirers in particular with sneers and sharp words.

“Bitch!” one of them spits at her.

“And?” she shoots back.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Adora scores the winning goal in the last home game of the season. Everyone rushes the field and Catra tries to hang back a little, overwhelmed by the sudden surging of the crowd, but Lonnie grabs her hand and pulls her into the fray to find Adora. 

They make it to the center of the field and Adora, surrounded by her celebrating teammates, spots them.

Adora pushes her way towards them and hugs Lonnie, then turns and throws her arms around Catra, lifting her off of the ground, managing to spin her in a small circle even in the middle of all the cheering people.

Adora sets Catra down but holds her in the hug, still, and she looks at Catra, beaming, blue eyes bright. Catra feels dizzy, and it’s not just from being spun around.

“Did you see?!” Adora asks, elated.

Catra throws her head back and laughs. 

“Yes, dummy, of course I saw! You killed it!”

Adora laughs with her and everyone is still celebrating around them and starting to head towards the edge of the field, and Adora puts her arm around Catra’s waist as they walk off in the same direction. Catra sees more than a few people staring at them, but she tries not to care and puts her arm around Adora, too. Everyone knows they’re best friends. It’s fine.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Adora is stressed.

She’s pacing around her room while Catra lounges in the bean bag in the corner, watching Adora walk from her desk to her bed and back again, turning sharply at each interval.

“Adora, you don’t have to get A’s on everything. Mara doesn’t even care.”

“ _I_ care!”

“And that’s fine! But you’re torturing yourself over this. An A-minus is really good. I’d kill for any grade starting with an A in algebra.”

“It should’ve been an A-plus! I forgot to “show my work” on _one_ question and the teacher docked me.”

“Adora, what is this about, really?”

Adora finally stops pacing for a second and faces Catra.

“I just think I owe it to my mom to work really hard and do well, okay?”

“Okay. But you already do that. You’re doing really well.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Why _not_?”

“Because mom gave up everything for me!”

 _There it is_.

Adora sighs and wraps her arms around herself like she always does when she’s anxious.

“She gave up everything to have me. She was still in college. She had to take time off to have me and if it hadn’t been for Grandma Razz she probably never would’ve gone back. And my—the _guy_ didn’t give a shit, he bailed as soon as he could. I just want to make it up to her. Everything she sacrificed for me. She was going to be a _doctor_.”

“Adora . . . Mara loves you a lot. Like, more than you maybe know. I can—I can see it, all the time.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Adora sits down hard on her bed, arms still wrapped around herself.

“I want to be like her.”

“You are,” Catra says, softly. “You _are_ like her.”

Adora looks down at her feet swinging off the side of her bed.

Catra gets up from her spot in the corner and goes to sit down next to Adora. She leans against Adora’s shoulder and she feels Adora lean back. The pressure feels good.

“But you’re also like _you_ , which is also good, by the way. You’re so fucking hard on yourself.”

Adora turns to look at Catra. Their faces are just inches apart.

“You think I’m good?” Adora asks. 

There’s a hopeful timbre to her voice that makes Catra’s heart hurt. 

Catra leans her head on Adora’s shoulder.

“Yes, I do.”

Adora rests her head on Catra’s and breathes.

“If you say so, then.”

That weekend is Catra’s 16th birthday. Adora is already 16 and studying constantly for her driver’s test in a week.

“When I get my license we’re driving up to Bright Moon.”

“What’s in Bright Moon?” Catra asks.

“I don’t know, everything! It’s so big and there’s so much there. We’ll explore!”

Her excitement is contagious, and Catra hums with it. Everything feels like an adventure with Adora.

It’s Friday and Mara’s off until Sunday night, so she takes Adora and Catra to the vintage flea market when they get out of school.

“It’s somebody’s birthday tomorrow!” Mara exclaims as she hugs Catra tight after the girls get home, giving her that little shake Mara always does at the end of her hugs.

Catra laughs. “Whose, yours?”

“No, _yours_ , silly! I’m making your cake tonight.”

“My what?”

“Your cake, keep up. Don’t worry, it’s going to be chocolate, of course. It’s my mom’s recipe. We baked together all the time !”

Catra feels something big and bright inside of her, something that threatens to spill out and tell on her. About how much she loves it here, how much she loves this house and the people in it.

They climb into the car, and Adora and Catra sit in the back together because Adora wants to show Catra a song. They split the headphones, one in Catra’s ear and one in Adora’s.

Mara reaches her right arm around the back of the driver’s seat, holding out her hand to Catra who sits behind her. Catra takes Mara’s hand and Mara squeezes, looking at Catra in the rearview mirror, smiling. Catra beams back at her.

The flea market is bustling with people when they arrive, and the three of them wind their way through the crowds and the stalls, taking in handmade jewelry, antique furniture, vintage postcards and photographs. Catra admires a table full of incredibly soft, handmade scarves while Adora looks through a basket of brightly colored scrunchies at the same table. Mara buys them ice cream from one of the food vendors and they walk around until the sun sets.

They pick up burgers and fries on the way home, and Mara begins baking the cake as soon as they get back. Adora and Catra watch a movie in the living room, the warm, sugary, chocolatey smell filling the house. Adora lies down on the couch at one point, draping her legs across Catra’s lap. Catra lets all these sensations surround her, buoy her.

That night, Catra falls asleep next to Adora, listening to Adora’s soft breathing, the stars on the bedroom ceiling glowing gently above them.

Saturday morning goes much the same as their Saturday mornings usually go, except for the sunny “happy birthday!” that Mara greets her with when she and Adora come downstairs. Mara makes coffee for them, and it makes Catra feel grown up when Mara hands her her mug.

Catra’s mom is expecting her home in the afternoon, so they have the cake after lunch. Mara puts sixteen individual candles on top of the cake (“the wish works best that way!”), and she and Adora work together to light them, but they keep accidentally blowing some out in their haste, and all three of them are giggling uncontrollably by the time all the candles are lit.

They don’t sing, and Catra is grateful. But Adora insists that Catra close her eyes and make a wish, so she does.

When Catra opens her eyes, she blows out the candles and Mara and Adora clap.

Mara winks at Catra. “Hold onto that wish, okay?”

Catra smiles. “I will.”

It’s then that Mara places a small present in front of Catra, wrapped in navy wrapping paper covered in sparkly silver swirls, a silver bow on top.

Even though Catra is holding the present in her hands, she still asks.

“For me?”

“Yes, for you!” Mara laughs.

“I wrapped it,” Adora says proudly.

Mara and Adora are both smiling at her, waiting patiently for her to open the box. Catra gingerly tears at the wrapping paper, pulling it away from the white box underneath. She lifts the top of the box, unfolding the tissue paper inside to reveal an incredibly soft, dark gray oversized scarf with fringe at each end.

It’s the one she had her eye on at the flea market. Mara must’ve bought it when she wasn’t looking.

Catra feels bowled over by this, noticed and valued. She’s not sure how to articulate that, though, so instead she gets up and hugs Mara, tightly, holding on longer than she normally would.

“Thank you, Mara.”

Mara smooths a hand over Catra’s hair and kisses her forehead. 

“Happy birthday, Catra.”

Catra’s mom arrives at that moment to pick her up and waits for her in the car outside. Adora slips a small box into Catra’s hand when she hugs her goodbye.

“This one’s from me,” Adora whispers.

The tiny box burns a hole in Catra’s bag the entire way home. It’s all she can think about, even as her mom details their plans for the evening, a work party that just happened to fall on the same day as Catra’s birthday. Normally these events annoy Catra and stress her out, but after today, she doesn’t care.

When she gets home, she runs up stairs to her room, roots through her bag for the box, and tears off the wrapping paper as fast as she can. She opens the small white box to reveal a silver ring with a tiny, single star on the middle of the band.

It fits perfectly on her index finger, and she texts a picture of it on her hand to Adora.

  
  


**(1:46 pm): Adora**

_do you like it?_

**(1:47 pm): Catra**

_I love it_

Adora is typing, but then she stops. She starts typing again a few minutes later.

**(1:52 pm): Adora**

_it looks pretty on your hand_

  
  


Catra goes to sleep that night with the ring still on, thinking about the star on her finger and the stars on the ceiling of Adora’s bedroom.

It’s the best birthday Catra’s ever had.

\------

Catra is standing in front of Adora’s dorm and regretting every step that brought her here.

It’s three weeks into the semester and they just got their first essay prompt. Their professor is requiring them to work with their partners to create working theses and outlines. So, Catra is officially working with Adora.

Adora has always had hang ups around doing homework, Catra remembers that. Not that she doesn’t get it done. Adora _always_ gets her homework done. But she needs very few distractions, and especially whenever they wrote papers, she did best if she was in a familiar environment, like her bedroom at home, or the kitchen table in front of the window facing the backyard. It was okay if Catra and Mara were there; their presence helped Adora.

But any other people and potential distractions made everything take longer, which made Adora frustrated, which made Adora feel like she was failing before she’d even begun. Knowing all of this is why Catra agreed to meet Adora at her dorm to work on their assignment.

Catra owes her.

Catra texts Adora that she’s here, and in less than a minute she sees Adora walking towards the door of the building. She’s wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt. Her hair is down and loose around her shoulders. It’s long. Longer than Catra’s ever seen it. It’s pretty.

 _Don’t_.

Adora opens the door and waves Catra in, giving her a small smile. 

“Hey, you found it okay?”

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t hard. Your directions were good.”

They’re standing in the building’s common area and Adora’s already tapping one foot. The girl still can’t stay still, that much is clear.

“Um, thanks for agreeing to come work here,” Adora says.

“It’s no problem.” 

“My roommate, Glimmer, is here, but she’s just doing homework, too, so it’ll be quiet.”

“Sounds good.”

They walk up a flight of stairs to the second floor of the building, eventually reaching Adora’s dorm. Adora opens the door and holds it open for Catra, letting her walk inside first. Catra bites back a smile at the mildly chivalrous gesture that feels so very _Adora_ to her.

It’s nice inside. A kitchen and living room in the middle of the suite with a bedroom on either side. There’s a lot of pink, honestly, but then Catra recalls the unicorn poster from Adora’s childhood bedroom that’s probably still there and it all makes sense to her.

“So, this is my place,” Adora says unnecessarily, but the formality makes it feel better somehow.

“It’s nice,” Catra says. “Shame there’s no horses, though.”

She says it automatically, teasing, and she’s about to regret being too familiar when she realizes what she’s said, but Adora laughs, big and genuine.

It’s a _good_ sound.

“No, not here. Still plenty at home, though.”

Catra can’t help but smile. “Good.”

They’re just staring at each other now, not speaking, and then Adora shakes her head just barely, like she’s clearing it.

“Um, do you have the prompt with you? I can’t find mine and it hasn’t been posted online yet.”

“Yeah, and I have the presentation prompt, too. Although we probably don’t need it for a couple more weeks.”

Adora sighs. “That one I’m actually not dreading.”

“You’re a good speaker. People like listening to you.”

Catra isn’t sure where this feeling of familiarity is coming from, as if no time has passed, like it hasn’t been _years_ since they’ve spoken.

Adora looks like she doesn’t know quite what to make of Catra’s comment, but she just shrugs and moves on.

“I actually like presentations, most of the time. So, where do you live?”

“Off-campus. Do you remember Scorpia? From our year?”

“Oh, yeah! Wow, I haven’t talked to her in forever.”

“Yeah. We went to ECC together our first two years and we’ve lived together ever since. With our friend Entrapta. We all just transferred here.”

Adora nods, like something’s clicked into place for her. “Oh, cool.”

They sit down at the small kitchen table in Adora’s apartment and Catra pulls out her laptop and the essay prompt, and she’s hyper aware of every movement she’s making, how every part of this feels surreal, how it feels exactly like they’re 16 again and they do this every day while also feeling like she’s entered a strange and unfamiliar country.

A nearby door suddenly bursts open and a short, pink-haired girl appears in the doorway, hands on her hips.

“Catra, this is my roommate, Glim—” but Adora gets cut off.

“So. You’re Catra,” Glimmer says. She’s wearing a _very_ sparkly dress.

Catra nods. “Yep. I’m guessing you’re Glimmer?”

“Yeah.”

Glimmer continues to stare, not offering anything else, and Catra isn’t sure what to say or do, especially because Glimmer’s pink hair, sparkly dress, and her fucking _name_ don’t match the hostility radiating off of her in waves. 

Catra doesn’t end up having to say anything else, though, because Glimmer turns to Adora next.

“I’ll be in my room.” 

Glimmer turns on her heel and closes her door loudly. Not quite a slam, but there’s force behind it.

Adora winces at the sound.

“Sorry about that. She’s—well, that’s kind of just how she is. She’s . . . protective.”

Catra shakes her head.

“It’s fine. Should we get started?” 

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

Adora, on the surface, seems okay, but Catra can guess that she might be spiraling, too. Which might be why Adora’s next words are a bit of an outburst.

“I fucking hate essay prompts. They’re stupid and they never make sense and they never _actually_ say what the professor wants and when you _ask_ them what they want, they can’t even tell you.”

Adora stops here and looks a little embarrassed.

Adora huffs out a short breath. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“I know,” Catra says. “I remember. It’s okay.”

Adora looks at her now, expression unreadable.

Catra continues, wanting to get past these initial awkward moments. 

“Why are you taking this class anyway?”

Adora sighs, a defeated sound. “It’s a requirement here. Everyone has to take an English lit class. To make us all ‘well-rounded.’ It would be fine if I could just do the readings and talk about them, but—well, it obviously doesn’t work that way.”

“Right, I forgot about that,” Catra says. So much here is different from the community college that she has a hard time keeping track of it all.

“You said you just transferred here, right?” Adora asks, as if she’s reading Catra’s mind.

“That’s right.”

Adora nods, and she looks like she wants to know more, like maybe why Catra didn’t go to BMU in the first place like Catra’s mom had planned, but she doesn’t ask, and Catra is grateful.

“It’s overwhelming here,” Catra says without being aware she’s even going to say it. 

Adora doesn’t miss a beat, though. “What do you mean?”

“Everything’s just so big, and intense, and . . . everyone seems like they know what they’re doing. I don’t know, it’s just a lot.”

Adora eyebrows knit together in confusion. “But you’re so smart.”

She says it so easily, like it’s a known fact. Catra remembers that that’s how Adora always was, always earnest, direct.

“So are you! You understand all that science stuff. I barely made it through biology for non-majors.”

Adora actually flushes at this. Catra does too, remembering a moment when she said the opposite, just because she knew how much it would hurt Adora.

Adora seems like she wants to move on because she quickly shifts the topic.

“What do you think you might want to do after college?”

It’s a basic question, one you ask people you don’t know well, but the mundanity of it helps Catra center herself.

“I’m thinking maybe . . . maybe I might want to go to law school. Maybe.”

“You’d be so good at that!” Adora exclaims, her whole face brightening with her enthusiasm.

Catra can’t stop the smile that takes over her stupid, traitorous face.

“I’ve been talking to one of my professors from ECC, and BMU has a really good law school, and they want to help me apply. So I might do that.” 

Catra feels self-conscious. She’s never talked about law school with anyone but Scorpia and Entrapta. But it somehow doesn’t feel too hard to tell Adora about it. 

“What about you?” Catra asks. “Do you still want to be a nurse like Mara?”

Adora looks at her quizzically then, like she’s wondering just how much Catra remembers.

“I think I want to go to PT school, actually.”

“ _You_ would be really good at _that_.”

Adora looks proud, and she smiles at Catra, and Catra smiles back.

Adora is about to say something else when her phone rings. Catra catches a glimpse of the screen before Adora picks it up. Someone named Hope.

 _Probably her girlfriend_.

“Sorry,” Adora says, her expression apologetic. “Do you mind if I take this real quick?”

“No, no, uh, go for it.”

Adora gets up from the kitchen table and goes into her room, pushing the door almost closed but still leaving it ajar. Catra tries to focus on the essay prompt in front of her, but she can just barely make out a word or phrase here and there: “Hospital,” “grocery run,” “sometime this weekend, maybe?”

Catra decides to tune it out and start her outline.

Adora gets back just a couple of minutes later, looking distracted, but otherwise okay.

“Sorry about that, I try to always pick up . . . certain calls.”

Catra knows she has no right to ask but she does anyway. “Is everything okay?”

Adora seems to appreciate it, though. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just uh—my mom’s girlfriend, actually.”

Catra’s jaw drops. “Mara’s gay?! Shit, good for her.”

Adora throws her head back and laughs, sudden and amused, and Catra feels warm. She didn’t know she’d be able to make Adora laugh like that, still.

“Bi, specifically, but yes.”

“That’s honestly so fucking cool.”

Adora’s still grinning. “Yeah, it’s great. Mom really likes Hope. I do, too. She makes mom so happy. They used to know each other, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! They worked at the same hospital when I was a kid, apparently. But they didn’t talk for a long time until they reconnected a couple years ago.”

Adora seems to realize what she’s saying, and she looks awkward, suddenly.

“Anyway, sorry for the interruption. Should we get started on this?”

Catra nods quickly, and they get on with the assignment, and it’s not as bad as either of them had imagined it would be.

\------

Adora goes over to Catra’s house one time in all their years in high school.

It’s halfway through junior year and Adora and Catra both are relishing the newfound freedom of Adora having her license. Mara lets them use the car when she’s sleeping during the day on her days off. Catra accidentally leaves school books she needs at her house, and Adora cautiously suggests they go grab them and then come back to Adora’s house, wondering if Catra will agree. She’d asked once during their freshman year why they never went over to Catra’s house, and Catra said her mom doesn’t like “company.”

The times Adora fished for more details, Catra dodged the questions or outright refused to give her answers.

Catra does agree, though, and they drive to her house in a very nice neighborhood that Adora has only ever driven past.

Adora and Catra pull up to an enormous white house with a large front porch framed by wide cylindrical pillars. The driveway winds through a bright green, immaculately manicured lawn that doesn’t look real. Adora is suddenly very aware of the old, worn appearance of the car.

Catra is tense in the passenger seat, and she doesn’t look at Adora.

“I can just run in and get them,” Catra says.

“I’d really like to see your room,” Adora says, hopefully. Hoping Catra will let her in, literally.

She’s expecting Catra to say no.

“Okay,” Catra says to Adora’s surprise. “My mom’s at the office today, so, sure.”

They get out of the car and walk up the front steps to the imposing front door, and Adora is trying to pretend this feels normal to her as Catra fumbles for her house key. Catra gets the door unlocked and they walk into a large foyer with high ceilings, a winding staircase in front of them. Adora can see a dining room with a sparkling chandelier to the left of the staircase, and the living room to their right.

Everything is bright, bright white. It almost hurts Adora’s eyes.

Adora turns her attention to Catra, curious to see what she’s like here, in her home, a place Adora has never seen her move around in.

Catra is sort of tiny anyway. She’s, like, 5’2 or something, and sort of willowy. She’s strong and fast, though, and a lot of people underestimate her until they see her on the tennis court.

But here, in her big, bright, empty house, Catra seems so small that it makes Adora feel watchful, protective in a way she doesn’t fully understand.

Catra starts up the stairs wordlessly and Adora follows. They walk down the upstairs hallway to a room at the end with a door that’s slightly ajar. Catra pushes open the door and Adora gets her first glimpse of Catra’s room.

In stark contrast to the rest of the house, it actually looks like her.

For one thing, there’s books everywhere. Two enormous bookcases line one wall, full to the brim. Her bed is unmade and has a deep teal comforter on top, an enormous pile of pillows covering half the bed, but the floor is clear, unlike Adora’s bedroom usually is. There’s a window seat with an open book resting on the cushions. There’s a bouquet of dried white roses hanging from a tack on the wall above her desk.

Adora thinks there’s no pictures in the room, at least none that she can see, until she notices a picture of her and Catra from last year’s winter carnival, smiling in front of the lit up ferris wheel, arms around each other, tucked into the bottom right corner of Catra’s vanity mirror. Adora smiles to herself but doesn’t mention it.

Instead, she points at a poster on the wall. 

“I’m sorry, wait, is that Fall Out Boy?”

“Yes, it’s Fall Out Boy,” Catra replies. “What about it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that a lot of things are making sense to me now.”

“Whatever, Adora. You’ve got your horse girl shit, I’ve got Fall Out Boy. We all have our things.”

Adora scoffs. “Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

Catra turns and runs down the stairs and Adora chases after her, and they’re both giggling the whole way down, but then Catra stops abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and Adora crashes into her, Catra cringing at the impact, but Catra plants her feet and they manage to stay upright.

“M-mom. I thought you were going to the office today,” Catra says, haltingly.

A tall, thin woman with long, straight dark hair down to her waist stands a few feet away from them, posture erect and imposing. One eyebrow is raised in both question and surprise.

“I came back for some files I need. Catra, where are your manners? Don’t be rude. Introduce me to your guest.”

Catra stills next to Adora. The introduction is perfunctory. “Mom, this is Adora. Adora, this is my mom.”

Adora moves around from behind Catra and steps forward to where Catra’s mom stands, extending her hand.

“Hi, Ms. Weaver. It’s really good to meet you.”

Ms. Weaver takes Adora’s hand in hers, her grip smooth and cool to the touch. She gives Adora’s hand a firm shake and lets go, looking Adora up and down.

“And you, Adora. I’ve actually heard about you from my friends in the athletics department at EHS. You’re quite impressive, from what I’m told. An excellent work ethic. Catra could stand to let you rub off on her a bit more.”

Catra just barely shifts on her feet behind Adora, and Adora can feel the frustration in Catra’s stance.

“Catra’s really smart. She helps me with my papers,” Adora blurts out before she can think about it. 

Adora feels awkward and defensive at the same time.

Ms. Weaver’s eyebrows rise in a skeptical expression.

“I do hope that’s not interfering with Catra’s own work.”

“It’s not,” Catra interjects, finally speaking. “We just do homework together. Keep each other on track.”

Ms. Weaver smiles at this, but she doesn’t look all that happy to Adora.

“I certainly hope so.”

Adora sort of just stands there, unsure of what to do, and Catra is silently seething right behind her.

Ms. Weaver’s expression changes suddenly, and with it her tone, as if she’s picked up on Adora’s discomfort.

“Well, what are you girls up to today?” Ms. Weaver asks, brighter now.

“We’re going to the library,” Catra answers flatly. “We have a lot of work to get done by Monday.”

Ms. Weaver smiles again, but it’s isolated on her mouth, not reaching any of her other features.

“That sounds like a good idea. I have a lot of work to get done myself, so I’ll let you girls go. Catra, you’ll be home by 6? We have to leave no later than 6:45 to make it to the club on time.”

“I will.”

“Good. Enjoy your day, girls. Adora, lovely to meet you.”

“You, too,” Adora says, but Ms. Weaver is already turning away and shutting her office door.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They walk back to the car in silence. Adora wants to say something encouraging, but she has no idea what that might be. She knows from the little that Catra has told her that her mom is strict about random things and really focused on Catra’s grades. She won’t let Catra get her license yet, but she doesn’t seem to mind that Catra’s always driving around with Adora. She knows that Catra and her mom aren’t close, definitely not like Adora is with her own mom. But Ms. Weaver seems . . .

Cold. 

Catra buckles her seatbelt and Adora follows suit. 

“We’re . . . not going to the library, are we?” Adora asks.

“No, I just said that because . . . I don’t know, she’ll just take that better.”

“Oh. Okay. What’s happening tonight?”

“A big work party at the club that my mom’s been planning for months. A bunch of important people will be there, apparently. I have to go and make small talk with all of her aggressively boring clients. And wear a dress.”

“Didn’t you just go to one of those?”

“They’re unending.”

Adora starts the car and begins to back out of the driveway. She has so many questions she doesn’t know where to start, and she’s not sure what she can and can’t ask, but Catra finds her voice again all of a sudden.

“Her name’s ‘Shadow.’”

“Wait, what? Your mom’s name is literally ‘Shadow Weaver?’”

“Yep.”

“That is . . . super weird.”

“So is she. Sleeps like a rock, though, thankfully.”

“That’s good.”

“It’s her best quality.”

Catra’s wry tone is meant to get a laugh from Adora and it does, and the tension in the car begins to dissipate, and Adora knows better than to ask Catra any more questions, so she doesn’t. 

But she does get up the courage to take Catra’s hand in hers, and to Adora’s delight, Catra doesn’t pull away. They hold hands, Adora driving one-handed, all the way back to her house. They let go without a word when they get out of the car, and they don’t talk about it.

Later, though, after Catra goes home and Adora is alone in her bedroom, she looks at her hand and she could swear that it somehow looks different from having held Catra’s.

\------

They’re driving to school one morning and Catra can’t stop yawning. They left early specifically to get coffee on the way there after picking Mara up from work and taking her home. Adora drives Mara to work every night and picks her up before school every morning because Mara likes Adora to have the car at home at night, just in case of emergencies. Catra and Adora lean against the side of the car in the school parking lot a good half hour before they need to be there, sipping their coffees.

They’ve been silent for a while when Adora speaks up.

“Why were you up so late last night?” Adora asks. “I got your last text at 3 am.”

“And you answered. Why were you awake?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“Catra!”

“Okay!” Catra looks away from Adora, trying to decide something. Then, “I don’t really—I don’t really sleep a lot. Like, I just can’t fall asleep some nights. So I stay up.”

Adora looks at Catra, surprised. “I don’t either.”

Catra raises her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“No,” Adora says. “I can’t sleep either, some nights. I’ll maybe get a couple hours in the morning, but . . .”

“But usually nothing,” Catra finishes for her.

“Yeah,” Adora says. “Usually nothing. I can nap at home after school and that helps.”

“That’s what I do, too,” Catra says.

Adora feels the flippy feeling come back. “We’re the same,” she says, smiling at Catra.

Catra meets her eyes, smiling back. “Yeah, we are.”

Adora tilts her head to one side. “You know, if we’re both awake . . . You can call me. Or text me, or something. We could keep each other company. I could come get you. I drive around sometimes since I got my license.”

“At night?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it even helps me get sleepy. But either way, it’s . . . relaxing.”

Catra drops her jaw in feigned shock. “You, _relaxed_?”

“Shut up.”

Catra laughs. “And Mara’s cool with you taking the car out in the middle of the night?”

Adora looks almost mischievous. “Mom doesn’t know.”

“A _dora_. Are you maybe, kind of, a little bit, _breaking a rule_?”

“Well, it’s not like she said, ‘Adora, you cannot take the car for a drive when you can’t sleep,’ or something!”

Catra smirks. “It’s still lying by omission.”

Adora rolls her eyes and stomps one foot. It’s childish and charming. 

“Ugh, why do I tell you _anything_.”

Catra holds her hands up. “Okay, okay, relax. I’m actually super impressed.”

Adora beams at this, then quickly tries to hide it, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the passenger side door of the car. 

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty impressive.”

“Don’t get cocky on me, we don’t need any more of that.”

“No promises,” comes Adora’s singsong reply.

Catra snorts and she’s about to turn around and tell Adora to follow her into school when Adora grabs her hand. She turns around, and she doesn’t try to get her hand back.

“I’m serious,” Adora says, and from the look on her face, Catra knows she means it. “I’ll come pick you up. You said it yourself, your mom sleeps like a rock. Don’t try and tell me you’ve never snuck out before.”

Catra narrows her eyes. Obviously she has. But that was to, like, walk to the 24-hour gas station a quarter mile away to get chocolate. She’s not going to tell Adora that, though. It’s not nearly as interesting as driving your mom’s car around in the middle of the night without telling her.

Catra puts her hands on her hips.

“Are you really telling me that you’ll come pick me up in your mom’s car, without her knowing, then come get me, who will be sneaking out of my house in the middle of the night because my mom spends the whole night hooked up to her sleep apnea machine like an oxygen-deprived robot and not even god herself could wake her?”

Adora nods, apparently pleased with Catra’s summary. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Well, then, Adora Gray. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a plan.”

Catra winks at her and Adora grins back.

\------

It’s the summer before senior year and Catra works what feels like every waking moment between the coffee shop and the bookstore. Adora waits tables at a small restaurant nearby during the week and works as a lifeguard at the community pool on the weekends.

They’re in the alley between the hardware store and the restaurant, their 15-minute breaks matching up for the first time all week, and Adora brings Catra a leftover muffin while Catra brings Adora some kind of ice cream coffee drink that a customer refused to pay for. 

Catra is watchful and observant, and Adora sometimes gets an impression of her as always poised to strike at something, some invisible threat that’s right over her shoulder. What, Adora couldn’t say. Catra is also kind of blustery and stormy. And today, Catra is in one of those stormy moods, snippy and edgy, and a customer yelled at her over the drink she brought Adora that Catra didn’t even make, and she’s ready to spit nails. Adora wants to snap her out of it, and she’s determined to get Catra to smile before their breaks are over.

“It was one of those fucking asshole bookclub moms that comes in every week and takes up three tables and doesn’t order anything half the time, and their book choices look shitty, too.”

Adora lets Catra get it out, nodding and chiming in with support.

“They’re assholes,” Adora says, sipping on the offending drink.

“Yes, they are. _And_ she made me go get my boss, and because Trevor is a _spineless_ piece of shit, he made me apologize to her. For a drink I didn’t make! And no one is tipping today and I count on those tips!”

Adora knows Catra’s mom is kind of rich, so she doesn’t always understand why Catra is so thrifty with her money. Her mom could probably just give her what she wants, right?

“Fuck Trevor. Also, are you saving up for something, like, specific?”

“I don’t know,” Catra says, toeing the ground with her sneaker. Her hair is down but held back by a light blue headband. It looks pretty in her dark hair. “Just the future, I guess.”

Adora grins. “You know, that's very responsible of you, Catra. People might think you care.”

“Shut up,” Catra says, but there’s no bite to it, and she’s smiling. 

_Success_.

“Ugh, did I tell you my mom signed me up for SAT prep classes _again_?” Catra asks. “She’s hounding me about my math scores.”

“Why does she get so hung up on those? They’re already good. And you’re a really good writer.”

Catra smiles again. 

_That’s two_.

“But they’re not _perfect_. She wants me to do something like her. Business and finance and money and shit. She says I need to start thinking about college majors that will lead to ‘prosperous ends,’ whatever that means. Nothing fun, that’s for sure.”

“What _does_ she want you to major in?”

“Finance.”

“Oh, ew.”

“Yeah.”

“I . . . can’t see that for you.”

“You and me both, dude.”

Catra kicks a small rock down the alley and it skitters away.

“You still want to be a nurse?” Catra asks.

“I think so. Something in the medical field, at least. I want to help people like mom does.”

“You’ll be really good at that. You make people feel good.”

Sudden heat rushes to Adora’s cheeks.

“Really?”

Catra’s cheeks are glowing pink and she looks away, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The timer Adora set on her phone to time their breaks goes off at that exact moment and they both give a start, quickly saying goodbye and making plans to meet up when they both get off at 5.

Adora is distracted at work, though, and she nearly spills a tray of water glasses on an already disgruntled woman impatiently waiting for her food.

Adora manages to pull herself together and finish her shift, but she can’t stop thinking about what Catra said.

 _Do I make_ her _feel good?_

\------

It’s one of the nights they can’t sleep.

Catra walks the one block away from her house where she knows Adora will be parked, waiting for her. Adora is sitting on the hood of the car, and she doesn’t see Catra at first. Catra takes in Adora lounging on the hood, and her hair is down, out of its standard ponytail, and she’s wearing her varsity jacket with a white t-shirt and her ripped jeans. She notices Catra now and gives her that big grin that makes Catra feel bubbly inside, and she’s not exactly what someone might describe as a bubbly person.

Adora notices the goosebumps on Catra’s arms when she gets closer, and Adora must think it’s because Catra’s cold because Adora takes off her jacket and puts it around Catra’s shoulders.

“Wow. My hero,” Catra says, and she means to sound sarcastic, but it comes out a little soft, instead.

Adora pulls Catra towards her by the open jacket.

“I try,” she smiles, hugging Catra to her.

Catra hugs her back, breathing in deep. Then they part and get in the car.

It’s quiet in the car. They’re not playing music right now. They do that sometimes, windows down, riding in companionable silence. It soothes Catra, calms her when little else can.

It also tends to be when they confess things to each other. Which is exciting, in a way.

It’s nearing 2 a.m. when Adora speaks.

“Catra?”

“Yeah?”

Adora pauses, just a beat too long, and Catra is about to prompt her when Adora says it.

“I like girls.”

Catra’s head swims. 

“What do you mean?” Catra asks, even though she knows what Adora means. She wants to hear it.

“I like girls the same way you like girls,” Adora says. “Like, romantically.”

Catra isn’t totally surprised, but of course she’s not going to say that. This is important. She turns and smiles at Adora, even though Adora is still looking at the road.

“That’s really great, Adora. I’m—I’m glad you’re telling me.”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but I kept getting nervous.”

Catra looks at her now, concerned. “Why were you nervous? I’m gay, too.”

It’s dark, _just_ too dark to tell for sure, but Catra would almost say Adora is blushing.

“I don’t know,” Adora says. “It just feels like a big deal.”

“No, you’re right,” Catra says quickly. “I didn’t mean that it isn’t. It _is_ a big deal. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things.”

Adora shakes her head. “That’s not it.”

“Okay, good.”

There’s a few beats of silence.

“Catra?”

“Yeah?”

“I _only_ like girls.”

Catra’s breath catches. “I only like girls, too.”

Adora throws her a quick look, beaming at her before turning her eyes back to the highway. 

“We’re the same.”

Catra’s stomach somersaults. “Yeah, we are.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra “forgets” to give Adora her jacket back. Adora “forgets” that Catra has it.

\------

Catra drags herself out of bed and onto campus with greater effort than usual. Entrapta is a terrible influence and they stayed up until nearly 2 am playing video games together.

Catra feels Adora sit down in the seat next to her, and she looks up to see her, and she’s somehow five minutes early _with_ coffee, when usually she appears at exactly 7:59 looking frazzled. 

“Good morning,” Adora smiles.

Catra tries to smile but it comes out more like a grimace.

“Is it?”

“You look stressed.”

“Do I?” Catra says sarcastically.

“It’s just that you’re not your chipper, sunshine-y self, like you usually are at 8 am.”

“Ha-ha. Cute.”

“Yes, I am! Thanks for noticing.”

Adora’s grinning at her and Catra can feel warmth rising up her neck and towards her cheeks. She tries to push it down. 

“You’re cocky as ever, aren’t you?”

Adora nudges Catra’s shoulder with hers. Even this brief contact makes Catra’s flush worse.

“Seriously, what is it?” Adora asks.

“I stayed up too late last night, like an idiot. And I have this big bio exam coming up next week. It’s gonna kick my ass.”

“I thought you already took bio at ECC?”

“I did, but BMU requires transfers to take one lab science here regardless. So I chose bio because at least I’ve done that before.”

“God, that sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Adora twirls her pen in her hand, then taps it on the table, one, two, three times.

“I can help you.”

Catra turns to face Adora more fully.

“What?”

“I can help you study. I’m good with ‘the science stuff,’ as you like to call it.” 

Catra cocks her head to one side, questioningly.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Catra has to ask, has to know.

“Why?”

Adora looks away from Catra and shrugs, but she bites her lip.

“You help me in here. Seems fair.”

Catra nods.

“Okay. If you’re sure. And if you have time. I don’t want to get in the way of your stuff. Soccer, and everything else.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The professor walks in then and the class quiets down fast. 

A few minutes in, Catra leans in towards Adora.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

The corners of Adora’s mouth quirk upwards in a smile.

“You’re welcome,” she whispers back.

When class ends and Catra starts packing up her stuff, Adora decides to go ahead and make this happen. Catra usually needed prodding a couple of times to accept help in high school, and Adora doesn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“How about you come over tonight?” Adora says. “We can start on your biology stuff.”

Catra smiles, like she’s glad Adora brought it up. “I can do tonight.”

“Great! I’ll make us dinner, too.”

Catra raises her eyebrows. “You cook? I seem to remember you burning the shit out of chicken nuggets.”

Adora scoffs. “I’ll have you know that I’m very good at making mac and cheese.”

“Well, this I gotta see.”

Adora grins. “Good. Does 7 work for you?”

“That works. Will Sparkles be there?”

“It’s Glimmer.”

Catra smirks. “Of course it is.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “I imagine she will be.”

Catra cocks her head to one side. “I don’t think she likes me much.”

“No, she’s just . . .”

“Protective.”

“Yes. Protective.”

Catra nods, then digs through her bag for something, but Adora suspects it’s mostly so Catra has something to do with her hands.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Catra says, finally, twirling a pen through her fingers.

Adora smiles a little bit at that.

“I’ll make sure she behaves.”

Catra chuckles. “Okay, then. See you tonight.”

Adora tries to tamp down a small thrill fluttering in between her ribs.

“See you tonight.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I just don’t understand, Adora. I really don’t.”

Adora is back home from class, standing in the kitchen with Glimmer, making tea for the both of them in the hopes that it’ll soothe Glimmer’s worries and generally give Adora something to do while she tries to explain why Catra is coming over for dinner.

“She’s coming over here to study for her bio exam,” Adora says.

Glimmer crosses her arms over her chest, tapping one foot. 

“Why? That’s not even a class you’re in together.”

“Because she’s struggling with it, and she helps me with writing. I don’t know, I just want to help her out. It’s—it’s what we used to do.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“About me helping her study for something I’m good at?”

“About you letting her in.”

Adora pauses, the hand that was stirring honey into one of the mugs of tea going still. She feels Glimmer’s hand on her shoulder. Adora turns away from the kitchen counter to face her, and Glimmer’s eyes are soft with concern. 

“Adora, you were heartbroken when I met you. I could tell, even though you didn’t tell me why for a while. I don’t want to see her hurt you like that again.”

Adora looks down at her feet. 

“Believe me, I don’t want to get hurt like that again, either.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Glimmer, I don’t know how to explain it. I just know that she’s here, and she’s like _herself_ again, like I remember her being before—before everything happened, and I just . . . I want her here. Please. Please just be nice. I’ll be careful, I really will.”

Glimmer sighs, and Adora can tell she’s still not happy about this, still not willing to completely let it go. But Glimmer relents some, anyway.

“Alright. I’ll be nice. I’ll be on my _very_ best behavior. But I’m watching her, okay?”

Adora smiles, relief and gratitude swelling in her chest.

“That works for me.”

Glimmer wraps Adora up in a tight hug, and Adora hugs her back, thankful.

“I love you,” Adora says.

Glimmer gives Adora a quick peck on the cheek.

“I love you, too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra comes over, Glimmer behaves herself, and Adora doesn’t burn the mac and cheese.

Adora walks Catra out to the front of her dorm building, holding the door open for Catra and stepping outside into the cool night air with her.

“Thank you,” Catra says, her words rushed. “For tonight.”

Adora could swear Catra looks shy. And tiny. Adora feels like she’s towering over Catra’s small frame, even though their height difference isn’t more than a few inches.

“Yeah, of course. I’m, uh—I’m happy you came.”

Catra smiles at that.

“I’m happy I came, too.”

Adora smiles, too. “I’ll see you next week, then?”

“Yeah, next week. I’ll text you when I get home.”

Gentle warmth blooms in Adora’s chest. That’s something friends would do. It’s something _they_ used to do.

“Sounds good.”

\------

Adora knows she must look strange, craning her neck around the throngs of people in the hallways reuniting after the summer apart, ecstatic seniors talking excitedly about their final year of high school and all the adventures that wait for them beyond it. 

Adora can’t participate in it because she’s looking for Catra.

Catra, who she hasn’t seen or heard from in an entire week without any explanation.

Catra, who hasn’t been returning her texts or calls.

Catra, who didn’t come to the door when Adora actually dared to go to her house to try and find out what was going on. Adora was met by Ms. Weaver, who told Adora definitively that Catra was busy and Adora could talk to her at school.

She finally spots Catra at the water fountain near her locker, talking to Scorpia, a newer friend of theirs who transferred to EHS at the start of their junior year.

“Catra!”

Catra turns to see Adora and nods at her, but she doesn’t stop talking to Scorpia, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

Adora walks over to her quickly, confused.

“Catra, where have you been? Hi, Scorpia.”

Scorpia gives a little wave.

“Hi, Adora! Great to see you!”

Adora turns back to Catra.

“Well?”

“I’ve been here,” Catra says, unfazed.

Adora is starting to feel _really_ frustrated.

“Catra, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone? Sorry, Scorpia.”

“Oh, no, no problem at all!” Scorpia says. “I’ll catch you two later.”

“Thanks,” Adora says as she grabs Catra’s hand, tugging her inside the nearest bathroom.

The door shuts behind them and Catra wrenches her hand out of Adora’s grasp. She crosses her arms once again, glaring at Adora, eyes narrowed. There’s one other person in the bathroom, but thankfully, they wash their hands and leave.

“What do you want, Adora?” Catra asks.

“Where the _hell_ have you been? I haven’t heard from you in a week! Why haven’t you been answering me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy to take two seconds and text me back?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Adora feels like she’s crazy, like she’s absolutely losing it and Catra is pretending she doesn’t know why. After everything that happened just _one_ week ago, how can Catra be acting like this?

“I don’t understand,” Adora says, confusion and desperation staining her words.

“That’s not surprising. You’re a little slow on the uptake.”

Adora doesn’t know what to do with this, with Catra saying these words to her.

“What happened?” Adora asks.

Catra shrugs. “I guess I just finally stopped to think about what my life might be like if I focused on myself a little bit more. What I might be able to accomplish if I weren’t so busy helping _you_ all the time.”

Adora freezes. “What are you talking about?”

“Maybe if I weren’t always so busy supporting _you_ , I would actually have a shot at something for myself. Maybe I’m just tired of propping you up, helping you with your homework, being the girl behind the star.”

Adora feels like she can’t pull in enough air, can’t draw a deep enough breath. She feels dizzy.

“Catra, that’s not what this—”

“It’s not my fault you’re too _stupid_ to figure anything out by yourself. Maybe it’s time you learn.”

Adora feels like she’s sinking, like the ground beneath her feet is soft and giving way, ready to pull her under.

“You don’t mean that.”

Catra’s eyes are hard. Stony. 

“I do.”

Adora starts to speak again, to say what, she has no idea, but Catra cuts her off.

“You know, we’re both going to college in a year, and we’re going to meet a lot of new people. You’ll have all your _fans_ fawning over you and you won’t want me around anyway. We might as well just cut things off here.”

“No, no—Catra, this makes no sense, what are you—”

“I’m serious, Adora. I’m done. Don’t be selfish. Let it go.”

Shock reverberates through Adora’s entire body to the point that she can’t even try to stop Catra as she leaves the bathroom in a blur.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Senior year sucks.

Or at least, under the surface. On the outside, everything couldn’t be more _perfect_.

Adora gets voted team captain, again. They win every home game.

She still scans the crowd for Catra, even though she never finds her.

A pretty girl asks Adora to homecoming. She says yes. They dance together and hold hands. Adora even kisses her at the end of the night.

It almost feels normal. Almost good.

Seeing Catra at school is a kind of pain that until now, Adora was unacquainted with. It feels like a nail being slowly hammered into her heart with each heartbeat. Like trying to walk on a sprained ankle, speak with a sore throat. Everything is harder and wears Adora out more quickly.

Catra and Scorpia are always together. It’s not hard to see that Scorpia has moony eyes over Catra, and Adora wonders if that’s something that’s happening, but she’s too hurt and too scared to try and find out. 

Adora spends most of her time with Lonnie, Kyle, and Rogelio, who also have no idea what’s going on with Catra. Not that Adora is surprised; if Catra won’t tell Adora what’s going on, there’s no reason she’d tell anyone else.

Lonnie and Catra actually get into a huge screaming match after school one day, and Adora is pretty sure that it’s only because she physically places herself between them that they don’t try to claw each other’s eyes out.

Adora still tries to talk to Catra for a few months. Catra always rebuffs her, scathing words pressing into the bone-deep bruise of Adora’s hurt. Catra manages to sneak a glance at the B-minus on one of Adora’s papers in English and she smirks at Adora, the twist of her mouth cruel, not playful like it once was. Adora’s cheeks burn with shame and anger, and tears threaten at the corners of her eyes.

Adora nearly doesn’t notice when she stops trying, that she and Catra begin passing each other in the hallways without any acknowledgement at all, negative or otherwise.

It feels like one more level of heartbreak.

Two weeks away from graduation, Adora is on the far east side of campus, near the soccer field, making plans with some of her teammates to take team graduation pictures together. She walks into what she thinks is an empty bathroom on this slightly deserted end of campus and hears retching. Someone’s throwing up in the stall at the end and the door is open, like whoever it is almost didn’t make it to the toilet in time.

Adora peeks around the corner of the stall to make sure the person is okay, and what she finds nearly knocks the wind out of her.

It’s Catra.

She’s on her knees in front of the toilet, knuckles white and gripping the edge of the seat.

“Catra?”

Catra startles like she didn’t hear anyone come into the bathroom, much less Adora. She turns towards Adora just a little bit, her golden eye narrowing.

“Go away, Adora.”

Catra retches again. Instinctively, Adora leans down and grabs Catra’s hair, holding it back while she throws up.

When Catra can breathe again she jabs her elbow towards Adora, knocking Adora’s hands away from her.

“Don’t touch me,” she says, but the usual venom in her tone is missing. 

Adora backs up anyway.

“Are you sick?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re throwing up.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Catra stands up from where she’s been kneeling on the floor in front of the toilet. She avoids Adora’s eyes and walks toward a sink, splashing water on her face and rinsing the bile from her mouth.

“I’m worried about you,” Adora says.

Catra gives a sharp, short laugh. “Don’t be.”

“Catra—”

Catra whips around, some of her curls sticking to her damp face.

“You can go now, Adora! There’s nobody to save here, so fuck off!” 

The venom is back.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Adora is shouting now. “Why are you acting like this? What the _fuck_ is going on?”

Catra opens her mouth to speak but Adora doesn’t give her the chance.

“Mom still asks about you! She worries about you! She asks me if you need help and I can’t even tell her because you won’t fucking talk to me!”

Catra’s eyes twitch, just the smallest bit.

Adora throws her hands up in exasperation.

“Who the hell are you? I don’t even recognize you. Who _are_ you?”

Catra squares her shoulders, pulling herself up to her full height.

“I’m just me, Adora. Maybe I was always like this. Maybe all the good things you thought I was weren’t real. Either way, you need to get the hell over it and leave me the fuck alone.”

There are tears in Adora’s eyes and she tries to will them away.

“Catra, just come with me. Just come home with me and we can figure this out, I _know_ we can.” 

“Don’t you get it?” Catra bites out the words. “I’m _never_ going to go with you.” 

Catra pushes past Adora on her way out of the bathroom, knocking into Adora’s shoulder with her own, _hard_ , and Adora actually stumbles from the impact.

\------

Adora feels like shit.

She’s not really one to “dress up” for class, especially not like a lot of the sorority girls do, but she’s maybe taken it too far this time. Her hair is in a messy bun, she’s wearing a very large hoodie and no bra, leggings, and flip flops. She almost walked out of her dorm in slippers before Glimmer shrieked and stopped her. 

And it’s all because she woke up this morning to a sneezing fit, a sore throat, and a dull ache in her entire body that does not bode well. But she’s not getting sick, that’s not possible. And it’s not a big deal that she grabbed chicken noodle soup from the dining hall before coming to class. Also, why the dining hall even has chicken noodle soup at this hour is beyond her and she doesn’t care to think about that right now.

Catra takes one look at her when Adora gets to class and sits down next to her.

“You’re sick.”

“I’m not—” Adora is cut off by her own sneeze.

“Sick,” Catra repeats.

“I’m _not_ —”

“You’re literally eating chicken noodle soup at 8 am.”

“Breakfast is a construct.” Adora’s voice is raspy.

Catra raises her eyebrows, amused. “Oh, is it, now?” 

“Yes, I can eat whatever I want whenever I want.”

“You make a compelling argument.”

Catra starts rooting through her bag, eventually pulling out a handful of cough drops. She holds them out to Adora who takes them, laughing.

“Why do you always have random stuff in your bag? What else is in there?”

“Bandaids, ibuprofen, allergy pills, my pocketknife. I might actually have some cold medicine in here, too.”

“Any reason you have a pharmacy in your backpack?”

“Preventative care, Adora. I don’t get sick.”

“Well, good for you.”

Catra pulls an orange-flavored packet of vitamin C from a pocket on the outside of her backpack and slides it over to Adora.

“Put this in your water bottle and don’t breathe on me.”

“My hero,” Adora teases, and she’s satisfied to see Catra flush.

\------

Adora is graduating in the morning, and Mara is very emotional about it. She keeps getting teary, hugging and kissing Adora, telling her how excited and proud she is that her baby is graduating, on her way to her “big college adventure!” It helps, a lot. It helps Adora feel excited, too. Adora has already accepted her full soccer scholarship to Bright Moon University, and she’s going there in the fall. She’s already talked to the girl who’s going to be her freshman year roommate (Glimmer? Shimmer? She can’t quite remember). So much is happening, though, and she feels overwhelmed.

It doesn’t help that she can’t talk to the person she’d normally talk to about it.

Adora’s phone rings. It’s not a number she recognizes, but she’s been getting a lot of those these days from BMU. Calls from the athletics department, academic advising, financial aid. It’s endless and she’s not encouraged by how overwhelmed she feels before she’s even started classes. She picks up the call.

“Hello?”

There’s muffled sounds on the other end of the line, words she can’t make out. Then, a familiar voice floods Adora’s bedroom.

“Adora?”

Adora feels a surge of comfort, of relief, in spite of the past few months.

 _Catra_.

“Catra, what’s going on? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

_Talk to me. Please, talk to me._

There’s a long pause on the other end. Adora clutches her phone, knuckles white, waiting to hear Catra’s voice again. Finally, she does.

Catra’s words are slanted, just a bit slurred. “Adora, I’m sorry. For everything.”

Adora grips her phone even tighter. “Catra—”

But the line is already dead.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra doesn’t show up to graduation.

Adora’s texts and calls to the number she still has saved as Catra’s go unanswered.

Adora cries in her bed for two days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you know that comments are 90% of a healthy fanfic writer’s diet
> 
> I had so much fun with this!! and this fic 100% has a happy ending, as is always the case with me. It’ll likely be two parts, and most of the rest is already written! I’m going to try to have it up in the next two weeks or so, maybe less
> 
> this is what I picture Catra's ring to look like: https://www.etsy.com/listing/604082671/tiny-star-ring-in-sterling-silver?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=silver+star+ring&ref=sr_gallery-1-5&organic_search_click=1
> 
> come talk to me on my SPOP twitter (@ adoralovesgirls) and tumblr (seethingandsacred dot tumblr dot com)! I’m friendly and I love to talk lol


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise it IS gonna be three chapters!! this one got longer than I anticipated and I just had a lot to say and there’s more story to come. the third and final chapter will hopefully be up two weeks from now if not less!
> 
> y’all are too sweet thank you for all the lovely lovely comments on ch. 1. thank you for reading this you absolute angels. let me know what you think!!

Adora is trying to focus on her human anatomy homework, but she can’t stop thinking about her mom, which is happening more and more lately. She picks up her phone and scrolls through her recent calls for her mom’s contact, pressing the call button and listening to the phone ring.

“Hello?”

Instant relief settles over Adora at the sound of her mom’s voice.

“Hey, Mama, it’s me!”

Mara's voice is still bright, even if fainter than usual. “Hi, baby! How are you?”

“I was just calling you to ask you the same question.”

“Aww, you’re sweet. I’m doing good today. I just ate something and I feel pretty steady.”

Adora exhales, letting out some of her anxious energy. “I’m really glad, Mama. You know, I was thinking about it, and maybe I should just come home this weekend?”

“Baby, we talked about this. I’m okay! Hope’s with me, and you have so much to do at school. I really want you to focus on that. And hopefully get some sleep every now and then, too,” Mara laughs. “Please tell your mother you’re sleeping.”

Adora laughs with her, more anxiety seeping from her muscles with every sound of her mom’s voice.

“Yes, I’m sleeping, I promise. I just—I really want to make sure that you have everything you need.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I love that, but I do. Don’t get me wrong, I _want_ you here, but it’s important that you’re there, you know?”

Adora sighs. She knows she needs to focus on studying, keeping her GPA in her scholarship range, spending time with her friends, even. But she hates being away from her mom right now. She knows she can’t do anything about this, but being even a small distance away from home right now makes Adora feel uneasy, out of control.

“I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just—hard being away right now.”

“I know, honey. I wish it were different.”

Emotion winds around Adora’s throat like a physical sensation, and she’s about to be dragged down by it when her mom speaks again.

“I want to talk about _you_ , okay?” Mara says. “Let your mom ask her questions!”

“Okay, okay,” Adora laughs, feeling a little bit lighter. “Ask me questions.”

“There we go! What’s going on with you? How are your classes?”

Adora has been both dreading and waiting for this question, and she knows she can’t _not_ tell Mara, can’t hold this in or keep it from her any longer. So, she blurts it out in a rush.

“Catra’s in my English lit class!”

There’s a stunned pause.

“Catra’s in your English class?”

“Yes.”

“Is she okay?” There’s a touch of urgency in Mara’s voice.

“I think so. I mean, she _seems_ okay. I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.” 

“So you’re talking?”

“Yeah, the professor paired us together for the semester, so we have to do assignments together and stuff.”

Adora can tell Mara is still trying to piece this together, trying to make sense of it.

“She goes to BMU?” Mara asks. “Did you know that? You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“She just started here. She transferred from ECC, so this is her first semester here.”

There’s another pause, longer this time. Mara is considering all of this, rolling it around in her mind. Adora can tell she wants to ask more questions. And she does, but not about Catra.

“Are _you_ okay, my love?”

Tears sting Adora’s eyes out of nowhere. There’s a lot she never told her mom. Where things stood with her and Catra the summer before senior year. Things Catra did and said during that last year of high school that damn near broke Adora’s heart. It hurt too much to talk about. All she could get out, most of the time, was that Catra didn’t want to be friends anymore and Adora didn’t know why. 

Back then, Mara had been so worried about Adora, and about Catra, that Mara had even reached out to Catra’s mom at one point, calling her to ask if Catra was okay.

“I can assure you that my daughter is perfectly fine,” Ms. Weaver had said over the phone. “She is also very busy with her studies and preparing for college.”

That had been the end of that conversation.

But here, now, Adora tells her mom the truth.

“I don’t know.”

Mara hums empathetically. “Oh, baby. You must be feeling so many things.”

A few tears fall now, trailing their way down Adora’s cheeks, and she wipes them away with the back of her hand.

“I am,” she sniffles.

“Talk to me,” Mara says.

“I just—I wasn’t expecting it, at all, to see her. I was so blindsided, and then we had to work together, and now we’re talking again, and it—it feels so normal sometimes, but then sometimes it feels like some kind of dream that I’m going to wake up from any minute. Mama, I—I missed her. I think I made myself forget how much I missed her.” 

“Of course you missed her,” Mara says gently. “She’s important to you.”

Adora doesn’t know what to do with her mom’s use of present tense, so she doesn’t comment on it. 

Adora sighs. “I don’t know how it still feels like this.”

“Let yourself feel it, Adora. It’s okay to feel it. It’s not bad.”

Adora starts to really cry now, tears falling from her eyes faster than she can wipe them away. There’s a deeper truth to her mom’s words that fit inside a small corner of her that she’s neglected for a long time. Something that she neglected even when she was dating her first girlfriend in freshman year.

“I’ll try,” Adora says.

“I wish I could give you a big hug,” Mara replies.

“I do, too.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

\------

When Adora walks into class the next morning, Catra is leaning back in her chair, her legs in dark jeans pulled up to her chest as she looks at something on her laptop in front of her. Her mass of long, curly hair is swept over to one side, and she’s wearing a tight, navy tank top accompanied, of course, by her perennial leather jacket. She looks good.

_No. Stop it._

Catra gives Adora a sleepy, crooked smile as Adora approaches her seat, Catra’s contrasting eyes glittering up at her.

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora’s stomach drops and flips around a few times at the familiar greeting in Catra’s low, rumbly voice, before giving her enough peace to reply.

“Hey, Catra.” Her voice squeaks just a tinge at the end of Catra’s name and she wants to become one with her chair so she doesn’t have to try and speak like a functioning person.

Catra, for her part, seems calm and cool as always, and she wordlessly slides a sandwich bag full of strawberries towards Adora as she sits down, who responds by passing Catra one of her individual packets of peanut butter that she knows Catra loves.

“Mmm, thank you,” Catra says, sitting up straighter, and Adora watches her bite the corner off the packet, tearing it open.

“So. You doing anything tomorrow night?”

Catra asks this while she looks at her laptop, but Adora can see that she’s scrolling aimlessly on her screen while tapping her right foot rapidly.

Adora’s curiosity is instantly piqued. “No, why?”

Catra clears her throat, but she still doesn’t look at Adora, eyes trained on her screen.

“Wanna come over to my place for dinner?”

Adora must’ve misheard her. Catra never invited her over even when they were at their closest years ago. Back then it had more to do with how Catra felt about her home and her mom, but still. And when Adora made Catra dinner, she at least had the pretense (even if sincere) of studying to soften the ask. But Catra’s not mentioning anything about school; there’s no apparent reason. At least, no reason other than Catra just . . . wanting her to?

She tries, but Adora can’t keep all of her astonishment out of her voice. “Really?”

Catra shrugs, but her complexion turns just a bit pink. “You made dinner for me, so I want to return the favor. And you can meet my roommates. I mean, obviously you’ve met Scorpia, but you haven’t met Entrapta. And they want you to come over, so.”

“They do?”

“Yeah. I told Scorpia about going over to your place, and she’s been pestering me about it ever since.”

Catra continues her scrolling.

“And I want you to.”

Adora is grinning now, she can’t help it. “You do?”

Catra turns to look at Adora at last, and she shrugs again, but she’s smiling, too. 

“Yeah.”

“I’d really like that,” Adora says, still smiling, a growing optimism in her chest.

Catra pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket and starts typing, evidently to her roommates. “Good. Scorpia’s going to be overjoyed. She’ll probably bake us all something.”

“Scorpia bakes?”

“Yeah, all the time. We basically live in a bakery. I think she should start a business or something.”

Adora grins. “I’m very curious about what you’re going to cook for me.”

Catra looks at Adora out of the corner of her eye, the blue glinting in the light coming in from the classroom window. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Oooh, a surprise. I like the sound of that.”

Catra huffs out a laugh and she looks like she’s fighting a bigger smile that’s trying to take over her face as she searches through her bag for something. Maybe a few years ago Adora would’ve teased her more, given her a hard time for how fidgety she is, but this feels significant, like it took a lot for Catra to do.

So, instead, Adora says, teasing, “Don’t burn it, okay?”

Catra scoffs. “Um, excuse you, I’m not quite as dangerous as _you_ in the kitchen.”

Adora laughs. “Fair enough.”

\------

Catra has her hair tied up in a high, curly bun on her head, a few stray tendrils escaping from where they’re supposed to be, stirring the bolognese over the stove. She glances at the clock. Adora will be here soon. She’s sheepish about her slightly disheveled appearance all of a sudden, Scorpia’s apron that she’s wearing over her blue flannel and black leggings. Catra shakes her head gently, clearing these thoughts from her head. It doesn’t matter what she looks like. Adora doesn’t care what Catra looks like, so why should she?

Catra is a _little_ nervous. It’s not a big deal, though. She’s just excited that her old friend will be in her home with her other friends, and that she and Adora are tentatively re-establishing themselves in each other’s lives.

They haven’t used the word “friend” yet, but that’s what it’s beginning to feel like, and Catra wants it to keep going. She wants to keep this, if she can, if Adora will have her. The fact that Adora is even willing to see her outside of class still stuns Catra, that even after everything Catra did to Adora in high school, all the cutting words, the cruel dismissals, the harsh denials of what they were, of what they _could’ve_ been—

 _Snap out of it_.

Catra doesn’t want to spiral right now, not when Adora will show up any second, so she tries out the breathing exercises her therapist taught her a couple of days ago. She’d been worried that it would be hard to switch from the therapist she’d been seeing at the ECC counseling center, but the woman she met with this week at the BMU health center was calm and kind and didn’t make Catra feel like she wanted to turn and run. So, all in all, a good outcome.

She’s just starting to settle down again when there’s a knock at their door and her heart responds by trying to escape from her rib cage.

“Coming!” Scorpia calls out as she approaches the door. Scorpia has been ecstatic ever since Catra told her that Adora was coming over for “family dinner,” as Scorpia has dubbed it. Catra initially resisted this, not because of any way she does or doesn’t feel about her friends, but rather because of the way she feels about the word “family.” She gave in, though, knowing it mattered to Scorpia, and soon Catra found herself referring to family dinners as exactly that, and without much discomfort.

The sound of Scorpia greeting Adora at the door floats to where Catra stands over the stove in the kitchen.

“Adora! Gosh, it’s just _so_ great to see you. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? You look great!”

“It’s great to see you, too, Scorpia!” Adora replies. “So do you!”

Catra’s heart rate picks up and she smooths a hand over her hair, tucking unruly curls behind her ears to no avail.

 _Breathe_.

Adora walks into the kitchen with Scorpia, and Catra is grateful she can pretend the flush in her complexion is just from the stove. Adora’s hair is in that long braid again, and she’s wearing a flannel, too, but hers is dark green and open over a black t-shirt, and her ripped jeans hug her long, toned legs.

Catra puts down the spoon she’s been holding and tries to make herself say something resembling a “hello” when Adora smiles at her. “We kind of match,” she says, gesturing between the two of them.

Catra laughs a little, glad for the casual greeting, glad that this isn’t immediately uncomfortable.

“Yeah, we do.”

Adora walks towards her now, and to Catra’s astonishment, she pulls Catra into a hug. It’s the first time they’ve touched each other in three years.

Catra is surprised, but so _happy_ , happy in a way she wasn’t anticipating at something that should be so simple as a hug. But it’s not simple, not really. Not for them. 

It’s a quick hug, but it’s comfortable. They pull away at the same time, and Catra doesn’t look away from Adora immediately like she might have at another time. Adora is smiling at her, a little cautious, maybe, but not closed off, and Catra returns the smile.

She tries not to think about the way she fits right back into the contours of Adora’s body.

Adora unknowingly gives her a break, in her sunny, upbeat way.

“It smells amazing in here. What are you making?”

“Bolognese,” Catra replies, and she allows herself to be a little proud.

Adora looks impressed, nudging Catra’s shoulder and grinning with that easy confidence Adora summons just to torture Catra. “Oh, so you can _cook_ , cook. When did that happen?” 

_Is she trying to kill me?_

Catra manages to look at Scorpia and smiles. “Scorpia’s taught me what she knows. She’s a good teacher.”

Scorpia, who’s been standing behind Adora and watching all of this, beams at Catra.

“Well, Catra is a _great_ student.”

“That’s nice of you, Scorp, but we both know I’ve burned my fair share of dinners.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a long time since you did that!”

Catra laughs, comforted by Scorpia’s insistent affirmations. “That’s true.”

Adora looks back and forth between Catra and Scorpia, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“Adora, I’ll show you around,” Scorpia says, waving Adora towards her. “Catra, you good?”

Catra nods. “Yeah, I’m just going to put all this on the table. Entrapta already set it.”

Adora and Scorpia leave the kitchen and Catra hears Scorpia walking Adora through the apartment. It’s not all that big, but it’s not super small, either, and there’s even a little nook set into the wall under a window between the kitchen and living room where they have their dining table. Catra is setting the garlic bread on the table when Scorpia introduces Adora to Entrapta, the three of them walking over to sit down at the table.

Dinner starts with everyone talking about their classes, Scorpia’s new involvement in BMU’s cooking club, Adora’s upcoming soccer game. Catra is beginning to relax when the conversation takes a turn.

“So, Adora, you and Catra went to high school together?” Entrapta asks.

Adora is looking at her plate, moving her fork around in circles. “Yeah, yeah, we did.”

“What was Catra like in high school?”

Scorpia’s eyes go wide and Catra forces her expression to remain neutral, in spite of all her instincts telling her to run.

It’s not Entrapta’s fault; Catra hasn’t told her much about high school, other than what happened with Catra’s mom, so Entrapta doesn’t know much of anything about Adora. All Catra told her is that Adora is an old friend from high school she hasn’t talked to in a long time. And Catra probably should have given her more context for all of it, if only for her own sake. Of course Entrapta’s curious. All of this, though, makes Catra feel like she might throw up here and now.

But Adora, of course, is far more generous than Catra deserves when she answers.

“She was really smart, obviously. And funny. Didn’t take shit from anybody. Worked really hard, too.”

Catra is crushed under the weight of this kindness. A flash of something like sadness crosses Adora’s eyes, which are avoiding Catra’s at the moment. But then Adora shifts in her seat and looks at Entrapta.

“How did you meet Catra and Scorpia?”

“At ECC. We all took statistics together. Catra gave me miniature peanut butter crackers and now we’re best friends. Right, Catra?”

Catra feels a strong surge of affection for her friend. “That’s right, Entrapta.”

Entrapta grins at Catra, turning back to Adora.

“I love miniature things. Scorpia made me extra tiny cupcakes for my birthday.”

Scorpia beams. In Scorpia’s words, baking for Entrapta and Catra is “one of my _greatest_ joys.”

“Oooh, what kind?” Adora asks.

“Red velvet. Are you dating anyone?” Entrapta asks.

If Catra, who’s accustomed to Entrapta’s abrupt and rapid inquiries, has whiplash from this conversation, Adora must be spinning out. Catra wills herself to not look at Adora as she braces herself for whatever her answer is going to be.

“No—no, I’m not,” Adora answers, self-consciously.

Catra figures Adora would’ve mentioned a girlfriend by this point if she had one, but she’s still relieved at the confirmation. Even though she doesn’t have the right to be relieved or not.

“Why not?” Entrapta asks Adora. “You’re very conventionally attractive. Very symmetrical.”

“Oh, um—thank you?”

Catra’s eyes widen. “Entrapta, _please_.”

Entrapta turns to Catra and cocks her head to one side. “What, you don’t think so?”

Catra’s face _burns_. “That’s _not_ —”

“I made brownies!” Scorpia announces loudly, knocking the table as she stands up. “I’m gonna go grab them.”

Scorpia retrieves the brownies from the kitchen and the rest of dinner proceeds with far less carnage. Catra eventually even feels calmer, and she sits back and watches Adora with Scorpia and Entrapta. It’s so strange but so natural, like it fits. The parts of Catra’s life that she thought would be diametrically opposed, Adora representing the before and Scorpia and Entrapta representing the after, somehow harmonizing in a way she hadn’t imagined possible a short time ago.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra offers to walk Adora back to her car, and Adora is delighted by the gesture. She wants a few minutes alone with Catra, and there’s a chance that she _maybe_ isn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

They walk out to the parking lot, a chilly wind winding around them as they make their way to Adora’s car. They’re talking about basic stuff, classes and assignments and deadlines, so it must be especially jarring when they reach Adora’s car and Adora turns to Catra, who was pretty close behind her, and abruptly changes the subject.

“Is Scorpia your girlfriend?”

Adora blurts this out in a rush, and Catra looks startled by the suddenness of it, but she answers, shaking her head.

“No, she’s not my girlfriend. We—we had a thing for a while, after high school, but . . . we’re just friends now. She’s a really good friend.”

Adora tries to ignore the flare of something that feels like resentment towards Scorpia, of all people. 

_Get it together. It’s not like it has anything to do with you._

It’s then that Catra blurts out her own change of subject.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you about Mara. About how she is.”

“Why haven’t you?” Adora asks, cautiously. The memory of Catra on that first day in class, wearing the scarf Mara gave her, flashes through her mind.

Catra looks away, then down at the ground, lightly scuffing the toe of one of her sneakers on the ground. 

“I don’t always know what I can ask. I don’t want to . . . overstep, I guess.”

Adora takes a deep breath. “That makes two of us. _I_ don’t always know what I can ask either. But then it’s—it’s kind of always been that way. On my end, anyway.”

Catra nods like she knows what Adora means. All the things about Catra’s mom and home that were always off limits, even to Adora. The questions she sidestepped or entirely refused to answer.

“In that case, I have an idea,” Catra says.

Adora’s interested to see where this is going. “What’s that?”

“Let’s say we can ask each other questions, and if we feel like we can’t answer them yet, then we say so.”

Adora smiles. “I like that plan.”

Catra smiles back, a hopeful smile. 

“So, how is Mara?”

Adora’s not ready yet to answer the entire question. Maybe she will be eventually, but not tonight. She can still tell Catra some of the truth, at least.

“She’s happy. She’s in love. I know I’m not far from home, but I miss her all the time.”

Catra nearly beams, like it’s the best news she’s gotten in a while. “She deserves that.” Catra starts to say something, but stops herself. Then, “I know she misses you, too. You’re everything to her.”

 _She’s everything to me, too_.

Adora doesn’t want to start crying, so she pauses here, considering whether or not to bring it up, but she decides that she can. “She asked if you’re okay.”

Catra looks so small, like this knowledge is pressing down on something tender inside of her.

“She asked you that?”

“She did.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that I—that I guess I don’t really know.”

Catra doesn’t say anything to this, and she looks down at the ground again, her arms crossed and her hands grasping her elbows. The wind picks up, and Catra looks like she might be cold, and for a second, Adora considers offering Catra her denim jacket, but that seems too far right now, too close to what she would’ve done years ago.

But they _have_ established that they can ask questions, so Adora decides to chance one of her own.

“ _Are_ you okay, Catra?”

Catra takes a deep breath that ends in a soft exhale that sounds like she’s releasing something only she knows about. She meets Adora’s eyes.

“I’m better now than I was for a long time.”

Adora thinks she knew this, thinks she could tell just from the last few weeks of being around Catra again, but she’s relieved to hear Catra say it, to know for a fact that it’s true.

“Mom will be really glad to know that. _I’m_ really glad to know that.”

It’s dark, and the lights in the parking light only illuminate so much, but Adora could swear that Catra’s eyes are shimmering, misty.

“You are?”

“Yeah,” Adora says. “I really am.”

Catra gives Adora a slow, cautious smile. Adora risks one more question, one that she could never ask Catra before, not even when they were at their closest.

“How are things with _your_ mom?”

Catra actually doesn’t look fazed by the question, and she nods once, as if she was expecting Adora to mention this.

“I don’t—I don’t think I’m ready to answer that yet,” Catra says. “It’s not because I don’t want to, though,” she adds. “Really.”

Adora didn’t really expect an answer, and she’s mostly relieved that Catra isn’t upset she asked in the first place. She doesn’t mind waiting, especially because it feels like there’s something _to_ wait for. Like there’s more for them.

“I get it. Whenever you’re ready,” Adora says. “If you are at all!” she adds quickly, not wanting Catra to feel obligated. The _last_ thing she wants is for Catra to feel obligated to do that, to do any of this.

But Catra just smiles at her again. “I will. I really think—I will.”

Adora wants to hug her again, but the first one was an impulse. Even though Catra hugged her back, Adora doesn’t want to push too much, doesn’t want to scare Catra away, not when this tentative connection they’re making still feels fragile and precious. But this time, it’s Catra who closes the distance.

She wraps her arms around Adora’s waist, and Adora pulls her in close, her arms around Catra’s small shoulders. They stand there for a few seconds, longer than that first, short hug, and Adora is struck by how much she recognizes this feeling, how her body seems to remember it, like there’s a deep well in her that’s been storing the feeling, waiting for it to happen again.

Catra pulls back just the smallest bit and they release each other from the hug. Adora almost wants to tell Catra what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, but it doesn’t quite make sense even to Adora yet. She’s not ready to share it, not when she doesn’t fully understand it herself.

 _We have time_.

For the first time since she saw Catra again, Adora believes it.

\------

They establish a routine without noticing it for a while.

  
  


**(7:33 am): Catra**

at the market, you want anything?

**(7:33 am): Adora**

skittles please

**(7:34 am): Catra**

you’re insane

**(7:34 am): Adora**

that’s not a no

  
  


Their English class and Catra’s biology class are every Tuesday and Thursday, so on Monday and Wednesday nights, they work on their joint assignments and go over Catra’s biology assignments. Glimmer eventually gets used to Catra being over twice a week without glaring _too_ much, and Catra switches back and forth between calling her “Sparkles” and her actual name.

Adora isn’t sure when it happens, but she starts going over to Catra’s apartment on Saturday afternoons and playing video games with Catra and Entrapta while Scorpia bakes in the kitchen. Adora watches the three of them closely, how they’re all so attentive to each other. Catra gets Entrapta a glass of water without being asked, and Entrapta accepts it gladly, downing half the glass in one go. Scorpia brings Catra a corner brownie, which Adora remembers as being Catra’s favorite kind. They welcome Adora into their world immediately, and Adora wonders at how easy it feels.

In late October, Adora asks Catra to come to one of Adora’s games. Adora feels like she’s proposing _marriage_ with how nerve wracking it turns out to be, but Catra says yes with no reservation. She shows up with Scorpia and Entrapta and the three of them actually sit with Glimmer and Bow. Glimmer takes this a little begrudgingly, of course, but Bow is thrilled, and he and Scorpia unsurprisingly hit it off. Bow has always reminded Adora of Scorpia, now that she thinks about it. Adora finds out later that Bow pelts Catra with a dozen questions about what Adora was like in high school, and to Catra’s credit, Bow reports that she answered all of them.

When Adora looks into the stands and sees the five of them sitting there, together, something deep inside her that she can’t name begins to mend. She catches Catra’s eye and Catra smiles, giving her a small wave.

One Tuesday morning, Catra brings Adora coffee. Tuesdays are tough because Adora has practice, then she has to rush home to change before class. She bursts into class exactly two minutes early, bringing her own personal gust of wind with her, and sits down next to Catra quickly, out of breath, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. Catra holds out a coffee cup to her and Adora, her brain still trying to catch up with the rest of her body, doesn’t understand.

“For me?”

Catra chuckles. “Yes, for you.”

“Oh, my _god_ , thank you.”

All of it feels good, all of these moments that are brand new but also like a well-worn notch Adora fits into effortlessly at the same time.

With each one, the question Adora isn’t asking weighs her down a little more.

\------

It’s November, the week after Thanksgiving and the week before finals, when it starts snowing.

Adora is on her way home from class when the snow begins to fall, and she texts Catra, who’s already waiting for her outside Adora’s dorm to study.

**(3:47 pm): Adora**

it’s snowing!!!!

**(3:48 pm): Catra**

lol I noticed. come get me, it’s cold

**(3:48 pm): Adora**

I’m almost home! soak in the magic

**(3:49 pm): Catra**

not all of us share your enthusiasm for the frozen sky water

**(3:49 pm): Adora**

I have more than enough enthusiasm for the both of us :)

**(3:50 pm): Catra**

I’m sure the snow is grateful for your devotion

  
  


A few minutes later and Adora is approaching her building, Catra leaning against the brick wall next to the doors, her right leg bent and her foot braced against the wall. She has her arms wrapped around herself, and she’s actually traded her leather jacket for a more substantial long, dark green wool coat. She’s not wearing gloves though, and she’s rubbing her hands together, then blowing warm air into her cupped palms. She kicks off the wall when she spots Adora. There’s a few snowflakes sparkling in her dark hair.

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora’s stomach swoops.

“Hey, Catra.”

Adora walks up to her and grabs Catra’s hands, rubbing them between her own gloved hands.

“Why don’t you have gloves?”

Catra takes a moment to answer. “I—I forgot them at home.” She’s sheepish. “Thanks.”

Adora scrunches her nose at Catra. “You’re welcome.”

Adora swipes them into the building and they walk upstairs to Adora’s apartment.

“Is Sparkles around?” Catra asks.

“No, she’s at Bow’s place. He just learned a new song on his ukulele and wanted to play it for her.”

“They’re spending a lot of time together, aren’t they?”

Adora shrugs. “Well, yeah. They’re best friends.”

Catra nods, but she’s smiling knowingly. About what, Adora couldn’t say. Adora sits down on the living room floor in front of the coffee table, shaking her backpack out onto the floor. She hasn’t cleaned it out in weeks and it’s full of now-useless handouts and half eaten granola bars. Catra sits down next to her and opens her laptop on the coffee table, immediately typing away at something that doesn’t look like an assignment, and they work in their usual companionable silence for the next two hours.

Adora is deep in her anatomy textbook when her phone rings on the couch behind her and she startles so suddenly that Catra startles, too, a small squeak of surprise escaping her lips.

“Oh, god, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! Um, I should get that.”

“It’s okay,” Catra replies, but she sounds a little shaken. “Go ahead.”

Adora gets up and grabs her phone, cursing her jumpiness, and walks to her room, shutting the door gently behind her. She sees that it’s not her mom, or Hope, but Glimmer.

“Hello?”

“Do you see all this?!”

Adora laughs. “Hello to you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, hi. Can you believe how fast this is coming down? It only started, like, three hours ago. The roads are already so bad. It’s only 15 minutes away and I still don’t want to take the chance. I’m just going to stay here with Bow and wait it out. I don’t remember it snowing _this_ much _this_ fast since I was a kid.”

“It looks pretty bad out there,” Adora says. “I’m not trying to go anywhere until it slows down.”

“I don’t want you to be alone, though!” Glimmer exclaims. Glimmer takes their status as best friends and roommates very seriously, as does Adora, and they decided a long time ago to stick together in any crisis, whether natural or man-made.

“I know! But I don’t want you risking it. And I’m actually . . . not alone,” Adora says, cautiously.

Glimmer pauses. “Oh. Of course.”

Adora sighs. “Glimmer, please don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You know what.”  
Now it’s Glimmer’s turn to sigh. “I think I’ve been quite accepting, given the circumstances! I’m just—”

“I _know_ , Glimmer. And I’m asking you to keep being accepting, okay?”

“O _kay_. I _suppose_ I have been pleasantly surprised by Catra so far. Hopefully she keeps it up. But—” 

“You’re watching her, I know.”

“Exactly. And don’t think I can’t watch from here. I will _sense_ it if she tries to fuck you over and I will _walk_ back home if forced.”

Adora smiles. “Glimmer?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Have fun with Bow, and tell him I love him, too. Okay?”

Adora can hear the smile in Glimmer’s voice. “We love you, too. You can get my heated blanket off of my bed if you want.”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

“Text me later, okay?”

“I will. You text me, too.”

They wrap up their conversation and Adora returns to the living room where Catra is still writing on her laptop.

“Glimmer’s going to stay with Bow at his and Sea Hawk’s place,” Adora says. “She says the roads are already bad over there.” 

As if on cue, Catra’s phone rings right then and she grabs it quickly, checking the caller ID.

“Oh, it’s Scorpia. She’ll be worried. Do you mind if I?” Catra gestures behind her to Adora’s bedroom.

Adora shakes her head. “No, not at all, go for it.”

Catra picks up the call and walks into Adora’s room, pushing the door almost closed but not quite.

A few minutes later, Catra walks back into the living room.

“Well, the power’s out at our place, and Scorpia and Entrapta are currently building a large fort with all of our pillows and blankets in the living room that Entrapta is ‘reinforcing’ with plywood or something? I don’t know, it’s chaos over there. I should probably go save them from themselves.”

Catra begins to gather her things.

“Catra, wait.”

Catra looks at Adora now, surprised, but she pauses.

“It’s just—the roads are terrible! You shouldn’t be out in this. And the power’s out at your place anyway. Just—just stay here.”

Catra is incredulous at the suggestion, and she repeats Adora’s words. 

“Stay _here_?”

Adora tries to look casual. She’s not sure that she’s pulling it off. “Yeah. Why not?”

Catra looks like she could think of a few reasons, and she lists them.

“I don’t have any clothes with me,” Catra says.

Adora shrugs. “You can borrow mine.”

“I don’t have a toothbrush.”

“I always have a back up.”

Catra snorts. “Of course you do.”

“What? That’s not weird.”

“No, it’s just very prepared. Which is very you.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

“Well, I can’t stop you.”

“Catra!”

“Okay! You’re absolutely sure you don’t mind? Completely?”

Adora fixes her eyes on Catra. “I’m absolutely sure I don’t mind. And I—I don’t love the idea of being here alone, I guess.” 

Catra narrows her eyes. “Sparkles isn’t going to come charging in here and kick me out?”

“She’s snowed in already, and I wouldn’t let her even under regular circumstances, so no. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Catra sighs, hands on her hips.

“I don’t like driving in snow,” she says.

“Then don’t,” Adora replies, smiling. She’s almost won.

Catra looks like she’s sizing Adora up.

“Okay. I’ll stay.” She crinkles her nose and smiles. “Since you want me to. Let me call Scorpia back really quick.”

Adora smiles back, and a thrill races up her spine, but it’s not a big deal. She’s just happy that her old friend is here, that they’re getting along, that they’re building something new. Maybe something that will last.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There’s not a ton of groceries in the apartment, but they cobble together something resembling dinner: boxed mac and cheese, tater tots, and frozen green beans.

“We should eat a vegetable,” Catra states firmly, and Adora rolls her eyes good-naturedly, but she eats the green beans anyway.

The snow continues to fall.

It’s almost 10 pm when they get another email from the Dean of Students that class will be cancelled the next day, too. They hear cheering and whooping from the dorms around them, students celebrating the unexpected mid-week break from classes. 

“We’re free!” Catra exclaims, clapping her hands together three times, and Adora grins at her childlike excitement, and she’s buzzing with it, too, and she thinks that maybe it’s true.

“Do you have hot chocolate?” Catra asks. “This calls for celebration.” She’s almost bouncing in her seat on the couch.

“I have stuff we can make it with,” Adora laughs, grabbing Catra’s hand and pulling her towards the kitchen.

Soon they’re stirring milk and cocoa powder and sugar and vanilla over the stove until it’s bubbly. They sit on the couch and watch a movie with their steaming mugs, the snow falling steadily outside, piling up against the windows.

It’s just after 1 a.m. when they can’t keep their eyes open anymore. 

“I’m ready to go to sleep,” Catra says, yawning.

Adora agrees, and they blearily walk to her room. It’s then that Adora realizes she hasn’t thought this far. Should she offer her bed to Catra? Is Catra assuming they’ll _share_ the bed? They did it countless times in high school, but that was a long time ago, and things are different now, and—

Catra interrupts Adora’s racing thoughts.

“I just need a sleeping bag and, like, as many blankets as you’ll spare. I’m taking the floor.”

Adora is grateful for the directive and does what Catra asks. They create a pretty impressive pallet for Catra on the floor: two blankets under her, then the sleeping bag, then two more blankets on top of her, and two of Adora’s four pillows.

They take turns with the bathroom, washing their faces and brushing their teeth, Catra wordlessly accepting the t-shirt and sleep shorts Adora offers her as pajamas.

The whole world is hushed and soft. Like everything has slowed down, paused, drawing out every second of every minute of every hour. Giving them _time_.

Adora settles into her bed, warm and relaxed, Catra’s presence nearby providing her with an unexpected sense of security. It’s how she felt when Catra slept next to her in high school.

“Goodnight, Catra.”

The reply comes from somewhere to the left of her, in the quiet dark.

“Goodnight, Adora.”

Adora sleeps soundly, without dreaming, without stirring once.

That’s the first day.

\------

On the second day, Adora tells Catra the truth.

They sleep late, not getting up until 11. Adora peeks down at Catra on the floor, and Catra stretches, first from top to bottom, then from her right side to her left in a half moon, then her left side to her right.

She blinks up at Adora lazily. 

“Well. What does this joint have in the way of breakfast?”

Adora smirks. “Poptarts.”

Catra claps her hands together. “Wow. This is a classy B&B.”

Adora laughs and swings her legs over the side of the bed.

“Come on. I’ve got a few more options that might interest you.”

Catra follows Adora to the kitchen and watches her hunt through the cabinets, pulling out what Adora calls “Glimmer’s special granola. She won’t notice if we have a handful or two.”

Catra listens to Adora chatter away, listening but not responding very much, turning the events of the last 24 hours over in her mind. She’s sitting in Adora’s kitchen, wearing Adora’s clothes, about to eat Adora’s food, and it’s still snowing outside. 

She almost laughs out loud at the memory of Adora’s brain short circuiting last night as soon as they decided to go to bed. She doesn’t understand how Adora can be so confident one moment, grabbing Catra’s freezing hands to warm them in her own, and then balk at simple sleeping arrangements the next.

But then, it’s those contradictions that have always been part of Adora’s charm.

After breakfast, Adora coaxes her into going out into the snow.

“Please, Catra? We have to build a snowman, or a snow fort, or just make snow angels. It’s, like, snow day law!”

Catra sighs, pretending to be put out, but as usual, Adora’s enthusiasm persuades her.

“I will give you one snow angel and one snowman.”

Adora’s eyes brighten and she squeals, stomping her bare feet in excitement.

“Oh, _yay_! Come on, you can borrow some gloves.” 

There’s a bunch of other elated students out on the snow covered school grounds once they make it outside, and Catra and Adora unwittingly stumble into a snowball fight where Adora nails a burly football player in the gut so hard that he stumbles, and Catra laughs so much she almost falls over into a snowbank. They run away from the fight, still giggling, and find a clear spot for their snowman.

They make snow angels right next to each other and step back to inspect their handiwork. Adora immediately starts laughing.

“What?” Catra asks, confused.

“Sorry, yours just looks so tiny.”

“Oh, shut up,” Catra says, lightly punching Adora’s arm, but she’s laughing, too.

They make it back to Adora’s dorm, shivering and damp and happy, and Catra makes tea for them both to warm up.

They do homework for a couple of hours to get it out of the way. A stream of frantic emails arrives from professors worried about how these lost final days of class will affect final exams and projects and papers, and Catra wishes they would all let the snow shelter them the way Catra feels sheltered right now. She pulls out the book of poetry she’s been reading in between required texts for her other classes and waits for Adora to finish up her anatomy homework.

Then Adora’s phone rings and she jumps.

Catra doesn’t this time, but now she’s _certain_ something is going on, something that Adora hasn’t been saying but wears all over herself, most likely without knowing it. It’s not in Catra’s head. Adora is holding something back, hiding something, and the effort of doing so is keeping her constantly on edge.

“Sorry,” Adora says, just like the last time, embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry,” Catra says. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

Adora gives her a weak but grateful smile, standing up from their spot on the living room floor to take the call in her room, like she always does.

She’s gone longer than normal this time, more than 20 minutes. Catra can’t make out any words, just the muffled sounds of Adora’s end of the conversation. Even after those muffled sounds stop, Adora doesn’t come out of her room for at least another 10 minutes. Just when Catra is going to check on her, just when she’s nearly worked up the courage to knock on Adora’s door, the door suddenly opens, Adora on the other side, mirroring Catra’s surprised expression.

“Sorry,” they say at the same time, although Catra isn’t sure what either of them is apologizing for.

Adora looks dazed and her eyes are tinged with red. She could’ve been crying, she could’ve been rubbing her eyes. It’s not quite enough to tell.

Catra decides to chance it.

“Are you okay?”

Adora just looks at her, still disoriented. “Um, yeah.”

She walks around Catra and back into the living room, sitting down on the couch, her hands braced on her knees.

Catra crouches down, kneeling on the floor in front of Adora, not too close, but close enough. 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m just . . .” Adora trails off, her eyes unfocused.

Catra knows it might not be her business, but there’s a chance that it’s starting to be her business again, and she can’t not ask. She can’t just sit here and pretend Adora is fine when Catra knows she’s not.

“I just feel like something big is going on that you’re not talking about,” Catra says, carefully. “You jump every time your phone rings. I’ve noticed it for a while.”

Adora locks eyes with Catra, as if remembering she’s not alone for the first time. Her expression changes, sadness etched into the planes of her face. Two small, silent tears escape Adora’s eyes and she clenches her fists on top of her knees. Her next words knock the air out of Catra’s lungs.

“Mom has cancer.”

Catra can’t breathe. She thinks she must’ve heard wrong, _prays_ she heard wrong. Adora continues.

“It’s breast cancer. They caught it early because Mom’s careful. She always goes in for regular checkups. But she’s going through chemo right now, and she has a hard time keeping food down, and she gets tired so fast. She’s having a—a bad day today. Worse than normal. Hope is with her, and I know she’s taking such good care of mom, I’ve _seen_ it, but—I hate being away from her while this is happening.”

Catra tries not to start crying herself, willing away the stinging sensation at the backs of her eyes. It’s not fair to Adora for Catra to cry over Mara, not after all these years, and not when Adora is suffering like this.

Catra covers Adora’s hands with her own, and Adora unclenches her hands, grasping Catra’s. Catra threads their fingers together on top of Adora’s knees and squeezes.

“Adora. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how much . . . how much this has been weighing on you.”

Adora holds Catra’s hands tighter.

“Any other time, I’d probably drive home,” Adora says. “Spend the night with her, at least, then drive back early in the morning. But with all the snow . . .”

More tears trace a path down Adora’s cheeks, and she closes her eyes, her breaths somewhat ragged. She takes a deep breath and blows it out.

“How long has this been going on?” Catra asks, smoothing her thumbs over Adora’s knuckles.

Adora swallows. “She got diagnosed in May, right after I got home for the summer. But we all knew something was wrong before that. Her prognosis is good, and her body is responding to the treatments, but it’s just—it’s all too much.”

“So Mara’s not okay. At least, not this way,” Catra says.

Adora shakes her head.

Catra wants to do something, wants to comfort her, but she isn’t sure how, not under the circumstances of this connection that still feels, to Catra, too tenuous to jeopardize. So, she decides to ask.

“I know I can’t change any of it, but what can I do right now? How can I help?”

Adora draws in a long, deep breath, exhaling gradually, meeting Catra’s eyes.

“Can you distract me?”

Catra smiles, squeezing Adora’s hands once more.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They put on music a while ago that’s still playing softly in the background, but Adora is focusing on Catra’s low, steady voice as she reads out loud, but quietly. It’s from the poetry book she’s been carrying around with her the last couple of weeks. They’re sitting on the couch, Adora on one end and Catra on the other, their legs resting side by side in the middle. Adora closes her eyes and listens.

  
  


“ _But it’s mine, this poem of the night,_

_and I just stood there, listening and holding out_

_my hands to the soft glitter_

_falling through the air. I love this world,_

_but not for its answers._

_And I wish good luck to the owl,_

_whatever its name—_

_and I wish great welcome to the snow,_

_whatever its severe and comfortless_

_and beautiful meaning._ ”

  
  


Catra pauses, her finger lingering on the page.

“‘I love this world, but not for its answers.’ That’s my favorite part.”

“Why that part?” Adora’s voice is fuzzy with sleepiness.

“I guess . . . I think you can love something without understanding it completely. Without knowing everything about it. That you can welcome uncertainty, welcome it without needing to know exactly what it is, or what’s going to happen.”

Adora opens her eyes. Catra eyes are fixed on her.

“Like the snow,” Adora says. She knows they’re not talking about the snow.

Catra nods.

“Like the snow.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Cocooned in her bed, Adora listens to the even rhythm of Catra’s breathing on the floor below her. To think that just a few years ago they couldn’t sleep a lot of the time, at least separately. Together was always easier. They were different then, even though Adora can still see 16-year-old Catra in the sly, crooked smile Catra flashes at her when something funny happens in class. Adora remembers the anxious thoughts that kept her awake when she was a teenager, prevented her from sleeping, the thoughts that could only be soothed by a long car ride and Catra in the passenger seat next to her. 

Maybe Catra’s presence here is an answer in itself to a question Adora didn’t even know to ask.

She falls asleep.

\------

On the third day, a lot happens.

Catra is awake before Adora, and she makes pancakes for both of them.

Adora wakes up cozy in her bed, covered by a mountain of blankets, and she smells something sweet and warm wafting in from the kitchen. She instinctively looks to the floor to check for Catra, even though Catra must be the reason for the delightful smell coming from the other room.

Adora walks out into the living room and towards the kitchen, yawning. Catra is standing at the stove in one of Adora’s flannels and a pair of Adora’s sweatpants that are comically too long on her, thanks to their height difference. She’s put her hair up with a big claw clip. Adora wants to remember what Catra looks like right now for a long time.

Catra hears Adora walk in and turns away from the stove for a second to look at her.

“Oh, good, you’re awake. Can you believe it’s Thursday? How lucky are we?”

Adora chuckles, still half asleep. “Are you making me breakfast?”

“I’m making _us_ breakfast,” Catra says, pointing the spatula at Adora.

Adora grins. “I’m a lucky girl.”

Catra snorts. “Yeah, and don’t forget it.”

They play cards after breakfast, and Catra gleefully beats her at speed four times before Adora calls it and Catra teases her for giving up just because she’s not winning.

The snow stops and the sun comes out for the first time in three days.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra is reading next to Adora, pen in hand, making miniscule notes in the margins of a novel she’s reading for her 18th century lit class. She notices Adora’s gaze and looks up.

“Something on your mind?”

Adora folds her hands together to stop them from shaking.

“You know how we said we can ask each other questions?”

Catra nods, but not without a hint of trepidation.

Adora thinks this might be the bravest she’s going to feel. It’s so still, and quiet, and the outside world is blanketed in cold white, even though the sun has broken through the bulky snow clouds. In here, they’re warm and alone, and she just wants to grasp this chance. She might never get a chance like this again. So she takes a deep breath and decides to be brave.

“I want to know what happened. Why you ended our friendship. I want to know why.”

Catra shrinks. She looks . . . frightened. But Adora is ready to know, has been ready to know for a long time, and she’s ready to push a little bit, and she’s crossing her fingers that Catra can handle it.

Adora wants to say something else, but it’s the truest thing she can think of, and tears are rising in her throat, and it’s getting difficult to speak, so she repeats herself.

“I want to know _why_.”

Catra’s hands are trembling as she runs her fingers through some of her long curls, her breathing shaky. Adora is scared Catra will refuse, will get angry, will storm out, even, trekking her way through the snow in Adora’s slippers that she’s wearing.

But she doesn’t do any of that.

“Okay,” Catra breathes. She looks scared.

Adora’s stomach clenches. She’s scared now, too. She realizes that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for.

Catra shifts on the couch, tucking her legs under her and cradling her elbows in her hands.

“Remember that night at the end of summer before senior year? After the bonfire at Scorpia’s?”

Adora remembers. She and Catra sat side by side on a low bench in front of the fire and made s’mores together. They’d sat closer than they needed to, shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing. Catra accepted a drink from Lonnie but Adora declined, mostly because she was driving but also because alcohol kind of freaked her out at the time. 

One of Catra’s s’mores fell apart so suddenly and completely when she tried to bite into it that they’d started giggling uncontrollably, and Adora caught a piece that was falling from Catra’s mouth and brushed Catra’s lips, and Catra looked right at her, questioningly. The moment passed, but afterward, they snuggled closer together, and Catra rested her head on Adora’s shoulder.

Adora tries to breathe.

“I remember.”

Adora sees Catra swallow like she’s pushing down a lump in the back of her throat. Catra uncrosses her arms and starts pulling on the ends of her fingers like Adora remembers her always doing when she was anxious. There’s something comforting to Adora about it, something that reassures her that the Catra she knew is here in front of her, even though she’s still getting to know this version of her.

“When you kissed me?” Catra finishes. She doesn’t meet Adora’s eyes, looking instead at her hands. 

Adora’s heart thuds hard and slow in her chest.

She remembers how Catra tasted smoky and sweet from the bonfire and the s’mores. She remembers the sound of the cicadas chirping in the copse of trees in Catra’s backyard. She remembers how Catra placed her small hands on Adora’s face, pulling her in closer, deepening the kiss.

It was Adora’s first kiss. She’d been too nervous to ask if it was Catra’s, too. 

“I remember,” Adora says, again, and she wishes she could say something else, but Catra is finally _talking_ to her and she’s not about to interrupt any more than she has to.

“I didn’t know it, but my mom was watching from a window. She saw. And she . . . wasn’t happy about it. It wasn't good for her image, you know. A daughter who kisses girls. She had big, important donors and clients, conservative ones, to impress. That _I_ had to impress whenever she trotted me out. It didn’t fit the picture she created. So that was that.”

Adora is spinning. She knew Catra’s mom wasn’t an . . . accepting sort of person in general, but she hadn’t known it was like _that_.

“She has connections here at BMU,” Catra continues. “I’m not sure exactly what and where, but I’m sure she knows I’m here. Anyway, she said something about—about how she wouldn’t want to see you lose your scholarship because of ‘indiscreet behavior,’ as she put it.”

Adora is shaking. She’s livid. She’s _sad_. She’s hurt, and confused, too. Catra never talked much about her mom and the times Adora dared to ask, Catra practically bit her head off. Adora still hadn’t guessed it was this bad.

Catra looks up, finally, and her eyes are shining.

“She told me I couldn’t ‘associate myself’ with you anymore. No going over to your house, no hanging out at school, no talking, even. And that if I did—well, it would’ve made home worse than it was already. She took my phone away. I had your number memorized, though, which is how I called you that last time before graduation.”

Catra laughs a little now, a tired laugh, and shakes her head.

“I bought one of those prepaid phones at that corner store we used to go to.”

Adora thinks she’s about to cry, but she bites the tears back.

“You remember that?” Adora says.

Catra looks confused. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“You just sounded like you were—like you’d been drinking,” Adora replies.

Catra blushes. “I was. But I remember.”

“I kept trying to call you. But I guess your mom had your phone.”

Catra nods.

Adora can’t find the words. She wants to scream. She wants to dropkick Catra’s mom. She wants to reach back in time and hold 17-year-old Catra close and never let her go.

But she doesn’t say any of that.

“Why weren’t you at graduation?”

“I moved out of my mom’s house on the last day of school. Into Scorpia’s. Her moms let me live there the summer before college. They helped me get out of there. I knew my mom would try to find me, so going to graduation just . . . wasn’t smart. And I really didn’t give a shit about graduation at that point anyway, so.”

Adora marvels at all the pieces of this story falling into place, all the pieces she’d been missing to understand that she never thought she’d have.

“What—what did your mom do when you told her you were leaving?”

“I didn’t. I left when she was asleep.”

Adora thinks about Catra then, essentially escaping her home in the middle of the night, alone. It makes Adora’s heart ache. Her chest feels so tight. 

“Catra?”

Catra looks over at her. Her big, bright eyes are so sad, tear-shiny blue and gold staring back at Adora.

“I was _so_ mean to you. I said what I said because I knew it would hurt you. Taunting you and being such a bitch about everything whenever I saw you at school. I went out of my way to be an asshole to you. I wanted—I wanted you to hurt like I hurt. I’m so sorry.”

Adora closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“It was awful,” Adora says.

Catra nods, looking down at her bare feet, her forehead scrunching together like she’s in pain. 

Adora continues. “But I still really—I still really just _missed_ you, though. Even then. Even when you were right in front of me.”

Catra gulps.

“I really missed you, too. Especially then.”

Adora places a hand over Catra’s. Catra doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all.

“Catra, look at me.”

Slowly, Catra turns her eyes to Adora.

“I’m so sorry your mom hurt you like that. What she did was wrong. And it never should’ve happened, you never should’ve gone through it.” Adora pauses. “ _Neither_ of us should’ve gone through it. She had no right to do that to you. To _us_.”

Catra exhales. “It feels good—to hear you say that.”

“It’s true,” Adora says, firmly, and Catra smiles.

There’s a brief pause, and they both use it to catch their breath.

Adora begins again, hesitantly. “We never talked about the—the kiss. We never got to talk about what it meant. For us.”

Catra shakes her head. 

“No, we didn’t.”

Adora decides to give voice to the fear that’s followed her since then.

“For a long time, I wondered if that was why. That maybe you regretted it, and that’s why you said those things.”

“I didn’t regret it,” Catra says quickly. She’s looking right at Adora. “I didn’t regret it,” she repeats.

Hearing this makes Adora feel lighter, a burden lifted that she’s been carrying all this time without always being aware of it.

Catra starts rolling the ends of her hair around her fingers, her hands busying themselves with twirling the same strand again and again.

“I feel like we’re friends again, but would you— _would_ you be my friend again? And then we can just figure it out from there?”

Adora’s heart swells.

“I _am_ your friend, Catra. I’m _always_ gonna be your friend.”

She means it.

Catra looks stunned. There are tears in her eyes. Adora has always been in on the secret that Catra is actually very sensitive, and she’s reminded of that now.

Adora turns more toward Catra now, slowly, not wanting to startle her or encroach too quickly.

“Catra, can I hug you?”

Catra nods immediately.

Adora moves closer to Catra on the couch and wraps her arms around her without any hesitation. She puts her arms around Catra’s shoulders and pulls her in close, and Catra responds by linking her arms around Adora’s waist, the same way they used to hug after Adora hit her growth spurt and gained five inches on Catra. Adora rests her cheek on the top of Catra’s head, her dark curls soft against Adora’s skin. Catra clutches Adora’s t-shirt, pressing her hands into Adora’s back.

It’s a bone-crushing hug. A coming home sort of hug.

Before either of them has a chance to pull away, Adora says what’s been nagging at the back of her mind.

“I feel sort of like . . . like there’s more you might not be telling me.” 

Catra stiffens just a bit, and Adora is silently cursing herself for saying it, but then Catra relaxes again and rests her head on Adora’s shoulder for a long moment. Adora waits, trying to be patient, trying to let Catra come to her, if she’s ready.

Catra takes a deep breath and pulls back, just enough to look at Adora but not enough to end the embrace.

“There is. I can’t—I can’t talk about it yet. I want to tell you, really. But I’m not ready yet.”

Adora nods. 

“Okay. I can wait.”

Adora is rewarded by Catra’s expression softening, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Adora asks before she can lose her nerve.

“Let me take you home. Over winter break. Please.”

Adora’s voice sounds desperate even to her own ears, but she’s past caring. She wants this too much.

“You really want to?” Catra asks.

“I do.” Adora gulps. “If—if you want to, too, of course.”

Catra nods, and her voice is thick and heavy when she responds. 

“I do.”

Catra pauses for a second and worries her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Will—will Mara want to see me?”

“ _Yes_. She’ll want to see you.”

There’s still reluctance in Catra’s features, but she nods.

“Okay.”

Joy blooms in Adora’s chest.

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  


Adora wakes up suddenly, jarred by a sound she can’t place at first.

She blinks a few times, trying to gather her bearings. She realizes three things in quick succession.

They fell asleep watching a movie on the couch.

Catra is laying on top of her, her head resting on Adora’s legs, a blanket covering her, still asleep.

Glimmer is standing over them, her eyes wide.

Not wanting to wake Catra, especially not due to Glimmer’s arrival, Adora brings a finger to her mouth to silently shush Glimmer, gingerly moving her legs out from under Catra, supporting Catra’s head with one hand and laying her down gently on the couch. Catra stirs but doesn’t wake. Adora rises from the couch and gestures for Glimmer to follow her into Adora’s room. They shut the door and start talking at the same time.

“You would not _believe_ my snow days!”

“ _You_ would not believe _my_ snow days!”

“What’s going on in there?” Glimmer demands, gesturing to the living room beyond Adora’s closed bedroom door.

Adora throws her hands in the air. “If I could explain it, I would.”

“What _happened_?”

“So much, oh my god. I told Catra about Mom.”

Glimmer takes in a sharp breath. “Oh, wow. Are you okay?”

Adora nods. “I am, really. She was . . . she was there for me.”

Glimmer actually smiles at that. “Well, _good_. That’s another point in her favor, I guess.”

Adora hesitates, but then presses forward. “She also . . . she finally talked to me about what happened, back then. When we stopped being friends.”

Glimmer’s jaw drops. “You always said you could never get her to talk to you.”

“I know.”

“But she told you?”

“Yes.”

“Once again, I must ask, are you okay?”

Adora chuckles. “You know what? I am. I feel . . . lighter.”

Glimmer puts her hand on Adora’s shoulder.

“What happened?”

Adora shakes her head ever so slightly. “I don’t think I should say, at least not yet. It’s really . . . personal to her. Something that was out of her control. I’ll tell you soon, though, okay?”

Glimmer narrows her eyes, but she drops it, for now. “Alright. But don’t keep me waiting _too_ long.”

“I won’t. Now, what’s the big thing that happened with you?”

Glimmer grins, her expression a mix of excitement and mischief and softness.

“I kissed Bow.”

Adora gasps. “ _No_ you didn’t! Oh my god, Glimmer! That’s amazing!”

Glimmer is blushing, but she’s also bouncing with excited energy, shifting from foot to foot, beaming.

“I was so nervous, but then I remembered that it’s _Bow_ , and I . . . I’ve wanted this for a long time, and he’s just—he’s wonderful. He kissed me back. And it felt right, so right.”

Adora pulls Glimmer into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you. For both of you. Um . . . how long has this been a thing?”

Glimmer laughs, her shoulders shaking.

“I honestly couldn’t say. It happened when I wasn’t looking, I think. But I’m so happy it did. I’m so _happy_ , Adora.”

“You deserve it, Glimmer. Both of you do.”

Glimmer pulls back a bit, looking at Adora. “Can you believe this week? Jesus, what was _in_ that snow?”

Adora laughs and hugs Glimmer again, then freezes. “Wait, did you drive here?”

“No, I flew. Yes, I _drove_.”

“The roads are already better?”

“Mmm, no, not exactly. It was pretty treacherous.”

“Glimmer!”

“Well, I’m _fine_ , aren’t I? I had to get home and tell you everything! This is not a text conversation!”

Adora pulls away and rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Glimmer grins. “That’s what Bow said, too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Adora and Glimmer tiptoe out to the living room, Glimmer going into her own room and shutting the door quietly.

Adora sits down next to Catra on the couch and Catra rouses, rubbing one hand across her face, blinking up at Adora. Adora places one hand on Catra’s knee, giving it a light squeeze. Catra smiles at her, and the smile turns into a yawn. It’s kind of adorable.

“Have a good nap?” Adora asks.

“Mhmm,” Catra replies, stretching. She grabs her phone from the coffee table and glances at her screen. “Looks like the snow’s starting to melt, according to Scorpia.”

“The roads still aren’t great though,” Adora says. “Glimmer came in a little bit ago, like an idiot. But she lived.”

Catra raises her eyebrows. “Sparkles has returned? Can’t believe I slept through that event.”

Adora chuckles. “Yeah. Why don’t you—why don’t you stay? Just one more night? Tomorrow’s Friday, anyway, and neither of us have class, if the school even holds class tomorrow.”

Catra folds her hands over her stomach, her feet tucked up under her, and she’s wrapped in Adora’s oversized flannel that she’s worn on and off since she’s been here. She tilts her head to one side, looking at Adora quizzically.

“You sure you’re not gonna get tired of me?”

She’s teasing, but her expression is earnest, so Adora answers her earnestly.

“I’m sure.”

Catra nudges Adora’s leg with her foot.

“Okay, then.”

That night, Adora, Catra, and Glimmer devour a frozen pizza that Glimmer brought back from Bow’s place. Glimmer is different around Catra now, more open, less sarcastic. Catra responds in kind, and as Adora watches the two of them, it strikes her that they’re not all that different.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They’re on Adora’s bed, Catra’s laptop between them. Catra is only half watching the show.

“Adora?”

“Mhmm?”

“I’m going to miss the snow.”

Adora turns to her and smiles. Her hair is down, covering her bare arms. She’s lounging back on a pile of pillows, looking every bit as content as Catra is right now.

“I’m going to miss the snow, too.”

\------

The first thing Catra wonders, vaguely, is how she got home.

She hasn’t opened her eyes. She’s too cozy and she doesn’t want to move yet. But then, something moves behind her, pressing into her back. Catra cracks one eye open, then another, taking in her surroundings. She’s not in her bed.

She’s in Adora’s bed.

Catra stiffens. Adora is behind her, breathing steadily, still asleep.

Maybe she can get out of bed without Adora knowing, get back down on the floor and pretend they didn’t just spend the entire night in the same bed. Catra turns over, inch by inch, to face Adora, hoping she won’t wake her.

Adora’s brow is furrowed as if she’s in the middle of solving a difficult problem, even in her sleep, the back of her open hand pressed lightly against her mouth. Her chest rises and falls, a strand of hair near her mouth fluttering with each breath. They’re close, Catra’s knees pressed against Adora’s in the small space under the covers.

Catra starts to move the covers off of herself, planning to slip out and around the bed to her usual spot on the floor, when Adora stirs. Catra stills.

Adora’s eyes open, hazy blue focusing on Catra as she stretches, the covers shifting around them both as Adora settles again.

Catra feels like an interloper, like she’s crossed some sort of line she’s not sure she should’ve crossed, even though all she really did was fall asleep by accident. They both did.

Any fears Catra has disappear when Adora gives a short laugh, slightly rough from sleep.

“I think your laptop is under me. Like, I think I fell asleep on top of it.”

Adora’s unexpected announcement makes them dissolve in giggles and Catra’s early worry abates.

“Morning,” Adora says, still giggling.

Catra smiles. “Morning.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Catra left an hour ago. Adora walked Catra to her car and helped her brush off the last of the snow clinging to the windshield. Catra hugged Adora tight, and Adora didn’t let go. They stood outside in the cold air under a gradually warming sun, holding onto each other, snow melting little by little around them. Adora watched Catra drive away until she couldn’t see her car anymore.

When Catra gets home, she texts Adora a picture of Scorpia and Entrapta in their living room. The two are sitting in the middle of an elaborate fort that appears to be made up of every blanket and every piece of furniture they have, and they’re beaming, clearly proud of themselves. Adora laughs so hard she has to sit down.

Later, Adora is cleaning up her room, folding the blankets and sleeping bag that were Catra’s bed, when she finds the clothes Catra wore as pajamas folded neatly in a small pile by Adora’s bedside table. She picks them up and is struck by how they smell like Catra now, a smell that transports her to dozens of past sleepovers.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, Adora brings the t-shirt to her cheek, breathing in the scent lingering on the soft fabric, and closes her eyes, the events of the last few days playing on a loop in her mind.

_What was in that snow?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snow is gay now I don’t make the rules!!!!
> 
> I’m a heaux for SW catching them doing something gay and then being the world’s nastiest homophobe
> 
> the poem Catra reads to Adora is “Snowy Night” by Mary Oliver
> 
> please tell me y’all’s thoughts, I love reading what you all have to say <3
> 
> come talk to me on my SPOP twitter (@adoralovesgirls)!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, when I was young and naive, I told my friend about this story and said “it’ll probably be a 10k one shot.” what have I wrought
> 
> Here we are!! Thank you thank you thank you for all of your kind words and excitement about reading the end of this story. It made me feel so encouraged and excited too and helped me push past the last few scenes which are always the hardest for me to write
> 
> And thanks for your patience too as I finished this. It was really important to me to make it just the way I wanted it to be, and I have to admit, I wasn’t ready to let it go yet. I hope you enjoy it 💛
> 
> A few important things:
> 
> 1) All of the tags on this fic apply to this chapter specifically
> 
> 2) TW for brief discussion of nausea and throwing up related to anxiety that could be triggering for those who have dealt with disordered eating
> 
> 3) The rating for this fic has changed from T to M
> 
> Have fun and take care of yourselves!

It’s been a week, but remnants of the snow are everywhere.

Small hills of snow pushed out of the way by the snowplows across campus, patches of ice still lurking on paths between buildings that the sun doesn’t easily reach. Adora is walking carefully through the still occasionally icy parking lot of Catra’s apartment complex when she sees another girl absolutely wipe out on a patch of ice. She glances over long enough to make sure the girl is okay, but not long enough to alert the girl that she saw anything. She makes her way to Catra’s apartment, even more aware of the potential dangers.

Another remnant of the snow is more tangible, more tactile. Catra has been cautious with Adora until now, usually letting Adora initiate any physical touch apart from the occasional hug, but she’s more comfortable now, less tentative. She hugs Adora when she sees her and when they say goodbye, and when she got back an A on one of her final projects yesterday, she got so excited that she grabbed Adora’s knee and squealed.

“It was so hard! I hated every second of it! Oh my god, I crushed it.”

Her enthusiasm and satisfaction with herself made Adora laugh, and Catra’s hand on her knee gave her a pleasant thrill even under the warmth of the blanket they were sharing.

The day after Catra went home after the snow days, she called Adora, her anxiety evident even through the phone.

“Are you sure you still want me to come?”

Adora is used to this from when they were younger. Catra always had to be sure she wasn’t being an imposition or she had a hard time doing certain things.

“I’m completely sure.”

“And you asked Mara?”

“I did, and she’s very excited, and she’s probably already baking something for you, so there’s really no going back now.”

Catra laughed softly, then quieted. “Did you—did you tell her? About what I told you?”

Adora shook her head even though Catra couldn’t see her. “No, I didn’t. I can, if you want, I just—I didn’t want to take that decision from you, I guess.”

“I really appreciate that.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Catra paused for a moment. Then, “I really want to go, I just—I needed to be sure.”

Adora leaned into the phone, hoping Catra could feel her reassurance from there.

“I know. But believe me, we’re both very sure. And Hope is excited to meet you.”

There was a smile in Catra’s tone. “I’m excited to meet her, too. Also, I usually spend Christmas day with Scorpia and her moms, so I was thinking I’d spend half the day with them, and then half with all of you. Is that okay?”

Adora felt a jolt of excitement. They’ve never spent Christmas together before. In high school they always exchanged presents on Christmas Eve after Catra’s mom’s enormous holiday party, and after Adora got her license, usually in the middle of the night after both of their moms went to sleep. Adora drove to the spot a few blocks down from Catra’s house where they always met, and they sat in the car together, speaking in low tones even though no one else was around. Without ever expressly deciding on it, they gave each other things they made, or found, or something important to them that they wanted the other to have.

It’s what Adora always associates with this time of year, even after all this time. Catra walking towards her on a cold, clear night, a small package in her hands in the lingering hours between Christmas Eve and morning.

“That sounds great to me,” Adora said.

Catra exhaled, and it was a good sound, like she got the peace of mind she was looking for.

Now, Adora is here at Catra’s apartment for one more study session before their last respective finals. It’s been a long day, but Adora just wants to be in Catra’s company, even if she has to make her already exhausted brain study just a little bit longer. She’s only indirectly acknowledging it, not letting the thought form fully in her mind, but on the car ride over, Adora realized that she was really looking forward to the hug she’s going to get.

Catra hears Adora knock on her apartment door and a flutter climbs from her stomach to her heart, rising in her throat. This has been happening more and more since last week, and it’s entirely inconvenient, really, and Catra is only getting worse at tamping it down. She misses Adora when she doesn’t see her, even if it’s only for a couple of days, and she’s drawn to her even more now, the push and pull they’ve always had intensified in a way that makes Catra want to be closer to Adora even when she’s right next to her.

The truth broke something, but in a good way. Broke years of silence, and pain, gave both of them permission to breathe easier than they were before. To _be_ easier with themselves, and with each other. To continue to get back some of the effortlessness they once had with each other.

Catra opens the door and Adora is waiting on the other side, cheeks pink from the whipping wind, and she turns her brilliant smile on Catra.

“Hey, Adora.”

“Hey, Catra.”

They reach out at the same time and pull each other into a hug. Adora holds Catra, securely, and Catra sinks into it a little more than she planned. Catra reluctantly moves away first, and Adora has this dopey smile on her face that Catra might normally make fun of, but she’s having a little trouble talking at the moment. Instead, she grabs Adora’s hand and leads her towards Catra’s room.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can think about something other than school for a while.”

Adora groans, allowing herself to be tugged along. “It feels like it won’t happen. Like we’ll be stuck in this awful loop of studying for a final, and then taking the final, and then studying for another final, _forever_.”

“So dramatic. Come on, I bought that chocolate you like.”

Adora gasps. “You did?”

“Yes, I did,” Catra laughs. “It doesn’t have to be all doom and gloom.”

They settle on the large, plush rug on the floor of Catra’s room and Adora begins her usual process of shaking everything out of her backpack and onto the floor.

“Your anatomy textbook scares me,” Catra says, watching Adora flip through pages full of charts and diagrams.

“That makes two of us.”

“Oh, please. You’re gonna ace it.”

Adora rolls her eyes, but she’s pleased.

They both go silent, Catra editing a paper and Adora flipping through her flashcards.

When Adora’s phone rings, she doesn’t jump, and so neither does Catra. In fact, Adora doesn’t hesitate to pick up the call right in front of Catra, which she’s never done before.

“Hello? Hey, Mama!”

Catra feels a little awkward, like she’s eavesdropping, even though Adora is talking right in front of her. And there’s some nervousness, knowing she’s going to see Mara soon after more than three years, even though Adora says Mara is excited to see her. 

“Studying,” Adora says into her phone. “I’m at Catra’s place.”

Adora suddenly looks up at Catra. 

“Yeah, I think so. Let me ask.”

Adora takes her phone away from her ear.

“Mom wants to talk to you.”

Catra stills, unsure of what she even wants to do. But Adora is smiling at her, and that makes Catra feel that it can’t be bad. So she accepts the phone from Adora’s outstretched hand.

Without a word, Adora stands and slips out of Catra’s room, leaving her alone with Mara on the other end of the call. Catra raises the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Her voice comes out steady somehow, even though timid.

Mara’s voice, unbelievably gentle, travels through the phone.

“Hi, baby.”

Catra is glad she’s alone. She starts crying, surprising herself, and she can’t speak at first.

Mara hums, a comforting sound in Catra’s ear. “It’s okay, honey. You’re coming to see me?”

Catra sniffles, coming down a bit from the initial surge of emotion. “Yeah, I’m coming to see you.”

“I made a pie!”

Catra laughs from deep in her chest, a laugh that feels like a release.

“What kind?”

“That’s a surprise! You’re going to have to wait and see.”

Catra smiles. “At least I don’t have to live too long in suspense.”

Mara laughs. “When are you two leaving?”

“Tomorrow after breakfast, I think. Both our finals are really early, so I think we’re just going to eat after and then drive down.”

“Excellent. Text me when you two are on your way, okay?”

“We will.”

They say goodbye and Catra takes a good 10 minutes to herself after the phone call, holding Adora’s phone in her hand as if Mara is still on the other end, deep, effortless breaths filling her lungs. She walks out of her room to see Adora standing in the kitchen, enjoying the chocolate Catra promised her earlier. Catra’s eyes might be a little red, but Adora doesn’t mention it, just hands her a glass of water and smiles. Catra accepts it, taking a sip, holding Adora’s phone out to her.

“Do you want to get waffles after our finals tomorrow?” Adora asks.

“God, yeah. That might actually get me through it.”

Adora steps forward and gathers Catra into her arms, and Catra curls into it, letting Adora’s strong arms support her. She wouldn’t have done this even a couple of weeks ago. It feels so natural now, though, to be close like this.

“We’re gonna get through it,” Adora says.

\------

Both of their finals are at 7 am, and the only thing Catra can think about is the fact that waffles and Adora await her on the other side of it.

Catra finishes her biology final first and heads back to her apartment to wait for Adora, who’s coming to pick her up when she’s done with her own exam. Catra sits in her living room with her duffle bag next to her, feeling like she’s waiting on the bleachers at EHS for Adora to be done with soccer practice and drive them both home. 

Scorpia and Entrapta bustle around the apartment, getting ready to leave for break. Entrapta is about to leave for Dryl, her tiny hometown up in the mountains that’s about two hours away. As usual, she appears to be packing most of the contents of her room to take with her, even dragging one of her monitors out the apartment door and down the stairs, with Catra’s help.

Scorpia isn’t leaving until later because she still has one more final this afternoon, and she’s overjoyed that Catra is going home with Adora. Catra usually spends most of winter break at their apartment, enjoying the alone time and cooking while playing music too loudly, then heading back to Etheria on Christmas morning to Scorpia’s moms’ house for the day. Catra took pains to assure Scorpia that she was still going to be with them on Christmas Day, and Scorpia beamed, scooping Catra into a big hug. Scorpia and her moms are important to Catra, and not being with them on the holiday would make her sad.

When Adora arrives, that feeling Catra has of being 17 and Adora picking her up to go for a drive hits her hard, and the tumbling of her heart at the sight of Adora carrying her bag down the stairs and out to the car in the tight jeans hugging her hips doesn’t help _at all_. What does help, though, is that Adora is still drowsy from her early morning, folding Catra into a sleepy hug, unaware of the effect she’s having on Catra’s nerves.

“You ready?” Adora asks, chin resting on the top of Catra’s head.

“For waffles? Absolutely.”

Adora chuckles. “Me, too.”

The diner is chilly inside because the heat is in and out, but they stay anyway, bundled in their coats and scarves, using the steam from their coffee to warm their hands. Catra thinks she hasn’t been happier than she is right now in a long time, sipping subpar coffee across from Adora, who’s telling her all about the 26 bones, 30 joints, and 100-plus muscles in the human foot in between bites of her hashbrowns.

Adora’s messy bun looks like it’s about to fall down any second, and she keeps swiping her bangs out of her face. Catra wants to reach across and tuck the errant strands behind Adora’s ear.

Turning onto Adora’s street is a time machine, but not in a bad way. It doesn’t make Catra feel like something is clawing at her throat, trying to pull her under, like coming back to their hometown twice a year sometimes makes her feel. Instead, the sight of the house coming into view is like a soft blanket settling on her shoulders. 

They leave their bags in the car to come back for later. An electric, breathless feeling comes over Catra, and she can’t pretend anymore that she’s just going to Adora’s house. This is a homecoming, and they both know it.

Adora sidles up next to Catra and gives her arm a quick squeeze, winking at her. Catra smiles back at her, heart fluttering with suspense, and something else. They walk up the front steps of the porch and Adora opens the front door.

“Mama?” Adora calls out into the house.

“In here, my love!”

Deja vu hits Catra with a force that threatens to knock her over. She’s 14 years old again and she’s following her new friend that makes her feel wobbly like jelly into the prettiest, coziest house she’s ever seen. Everything _smells_ like she remembers. Like cinnamon and orange. She and Adora kick off their shoes at the same spot near the staircase where they always left them when they got home from school. The floorboards in the living room squeak in exactly the same place as Catra walks over them.

“We’re home!” Adora says when she walks into the kitchen and Mara scoops her into a big hug. The truth of this pronouncement isn’t lost on Catra as she enters the warm light of the kitchen after Adora.

Mara’s whole being lights up as soon as she sees Catra, like someone walked into a dark room and turned on a light she didn’t know was there.

“Oh, my _love_!” Mara exclaims, arms wide, reaching for Catra to hug her.

Mara’s head is wrapped in a dark purple scarf and half-moon shadows underline her eyes, but she still looks like herself. Catra takes in Mara’s sweet, open face, a face that always held love and pride for her. She sees that same love and pride now, mixed with something else.

Relief.

Catra feels a wave of guilt crash into her, bowed under the weight of it.

_Was she worried about me?_

Catra lets Mara bring her close, the familiar scent of lavender that she always associated with Mara wafting over her. Catra thinks she might choke on the emotion rising up in her, Mara’s hands rubbing her back. She’s thinner than Catra remembers and it makes Catra feel suddenly and fiercely protective.

“You’re here,” Mara whispers.

Catra squeezes Mara as tightly as she can without worrying about hurting her.

“I’m here.”

Mara pulls away and holds Catra’s arms, looking her over as if to double check that she really is, that she’s present and whole.

“Hope, this is Catra.”

Hope is a tall, slim woman with long, silvery blonde hair. She has an incredible sense of calm about her, almost ethereal. 

Hope extends her hand to Catra who takes it, Hope’s grip light, but sure.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Catra. These two have talked of nothing else,” she smiles, inclining her head towards Mara and then Adora.

Mara laughs and squeezes Catra’s shoulders affectionately, and Catra is satisfied to see that Adora is blushing.

As Adora fills in Mara and Hope on the drive home, Catra takes stock of the kitchen, the room she probably spent the most time in as a teenager, other than Adora’s room. The same lightcatcher is in the window over the sink. The same yellow dishes she ate dinner off of every weekend for three years are sitting in the drying rack. The same pictures are on the fridge, like the one of Adora as a toddler standing in a mop bucket that made her laugh hysterically when she first noticed it years ago. It makes Catra’s eyes sting and her throat tighten.

“Let’s go grab our bags,” Adora says, her hand lightly rubbing Catra’s arm. Catra realizes that she’s been lost in her reverie, quietly looking around, and she’s self-conscious for a second.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Mara pats Catra’s shoulder as she walks by and just that small gesture makes Catra feel like she might cry. From what, she isn’t sure yet. Maybe relief, maybe happiness. Probably both.

Catra and Adora take their bags upstairs, the creaking steps flooding Catra’s mind with memories of snack runs on late nights when she and Adora stayed up most of the night giggling, talking about nothing she can remember now, except for the fuzzy feelings the memories carry with them. Adora’s room hasn’t changed all that much, although there’s a new light green bedspread, and a mass of white pillows stacked against the headboard. The unicorn poster is gone, as is most of the horse paraphernalia. Catra actually misses it a little, which is why she’s happy to see a single figurine of a unicorn with orange hair and multicolored wings on the shelf above Adora’s desk.

“I see Swift Wind still has his place of honor,” Catra says, setting her duffle bag down next to Adora’s bed.

Adora grins. “Of course he does. I couldn’t very well take him down, could I?”

Catra laughs. “Of course not.”

Mara grabs them both as soon as they come back downstairs. “Porch time!” she declares, leading them both out to the front of the house.

The four of them sit on the enclosed front porch, the small space heater providing more than enough warmth, for a long time. Catra sits in one of the rocking chairs next to Hope and across from Mara and Adora on the porch swing where Mara hugs and kisses Adora in between a stream of questions about BMU, soccer, and Bow and Glimmer. Adora visibly relaxes now that she’s with her mom, resting her head on Mara’s shoulder, telling her everything she can think of that she hasn’t already told her over the phone in the last week.

Mara eventually turns to Catra. “What about you, honey? How did your finals go?”

Catra appreciates the softball question, and she answers as fully as Adora did, telling Mara about her annoying biology professor, as well as the paper she wrote that she’s proud of. Mara listens to Catra like she always has, with her full attention and encouraging facial expressions.

They eat dinner together, and the worn wood of the kitchen table under Catra’s fingers triggers a string of sensory memories of countless weekend breakfasts and dinners with Mara and Adora. She could swear that, just for a second, she smells chocolate chip muffins and fresh coffee on an autumn morning.

Hope is a bit on the quiet side, but she has a genuine smile that transforms her fine features, and she and Mara hold hands for most of the night. Hope strokes Mara’s hand and refills her water glass every time it gets low.

Everyone gushes over Mara’s apple pie, and Catra thinks she might not have tasted anything this good since the _last_ time she had Mara’s cooking.

“It’s the first thing I’ve baked in a long time,” Mara says, proudly, and Hope kisses her hand.

Hope and Adora get started on the dishes and Mara takes Catra’s hand.

“Let’s go sit,” she says, taking Catra’s hand in hers, and Catra follows. Mara leads her back to the porch, and this time she sits on the swing next to Mara. Mara tells her all about her garden, the one she began back in spring of last year. All the flowers she grows, like camellias, azaleas, and bluebells, reviving the garden she used to work in with her mother.

Mara suddenly turns to Catra. She looks tired, but content.

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

Mara says this like it makes perfect sense, and Catra is amazed that she feels the same way.

“I’m sorry, Mara,” she says.

Mara’s eyebrows knit together. “For what?”

_For hurting Adora. For hurting myself. For making you worry. For everything._

“For not coming home sooner.”

Mara smiles, looping her arm around Catra, her hand guiding Catra’s head to rest on her shoulder. Catra relaxes into Mara and closes her eyes.

“What matters,” Mara says, “is that you came home.”

Adora is in her room, digging through her backpack for lip balm, when Catra steps out of the bathroom in her pajamas, hair damp from her shower. She’s not wearing a bra, and Adora makes herself look away, hoping Catra didn’t notice Adora’s gaze lingering.

Catra gathers her hair in her hands, scrunching it with a towel, and shuffles from one foot to the other.

“Um, so, where should I sleep?”

Adora actually prepared for this this time, so she’s ready.

“I mean . . . I was thinking, we can just share my bed, if you want. It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Adora doesn’t want to worry herself or Catra over this, and something about being home makes her feel more relaxed, as if things that seemed like a big deal before just aren’t anymore. Like she can breathe.

Catra nods, smiling. “Okay.”

They sleep on the same sides of the bed that they always did when they were younger: Adora on the left side by the window, Catra on the right. Adora falls asleep first, like she always did when they were together. 

Warm in Adora’s bed, filled with Mara’s food, safe in the place that still, years later, feels the most like home that any place ever did, Catra falls asleep.

The day of Catra’s 16th birthday, the day she got her scarf and her ring, Adora insisted she make a wish over those 16 candles on the cake Mara made.

“Hold onto that wish,” Mara told her then.

And she did. It was this.

\------

Their days settle into a rhythm that lulls Catra into a calm she hasn’t felt in a long time.

Every morning, Hope makes French press coffee for everyone while Catra and Adora make breakfast. Mara needs to eat more plain foods, like pancakes or waffles with butter, so they usually make those, along with eggs and bacon. Overall, though, Catra can tell that Mara is doing well, all things considered. There’s color in her cheeks and she has enough energy for each day.

Catra is flipping pancakes one morning when Adora, reaching for plates in the cabinet above Catra, places her hand on the small of Catra’s back. Catra is so flustered and distracted by this that she burns a pancake.

Mara and Catra sit side by side on the porch swing while Mara sews a button back onto a coat, Catra reading out loud to her from one of Mara’s magazines. Mara has always had a fondness for celebrity gossip, and she asks Catra to read it out loud to both of them because, according to her, Catra has “a strong reading voice” that provides “gravitas.” Adora and Hope watch soccer together in the living room, the two of them occasionally yelling at something happening on the TV.

“I don’t get it,” Mara whispers conspiratorially.

“I don’t either,” Catra whispers back, and they both dissolve into laughter.

It’s late afternoon when the four of them pile into Hope’s truck to go get a tree. Catra feels like a little kid, sitting in the back with Adora, watching Mara fiddle with Hope’s radio to find something she likes.

The tree lot is golden from the sunset and the lights strung up above the Christmas trees of varying heights. They stroll up and down the pine-scented rows, pointing at one tree and then another. Hope plucks each tree from where it leans against the others and turns it around so Mara, Adora, and Catra can see it from every angle.

They select their tree and Hope gets it into the bed of the truck, Adora and Catra helping her secure it with bungee cords. They set up the tree in the living room in front of the window that faces the front yard, and as the tallest two present, Hope and Adora are tasked with winding the tiny white lights all the way to the top of the tree. Mara shakes out the tree skirt that her mom made when she was a little girl, and Adora places it around the base. Homemade ornaments from Adora’s childhood are dispersed among the branches alongside the embroidered hoop ornaments Mara makes.

The tree reflects on the glass of the window panes, shining from the front window towards the cars that pass on the road beyond.

\------

Mara sends Adora and Catra to the store with an impressive list of groceries meant to last them all until Christmas, so they decide to split it, Adora making for the produce while Catra goes in search of the kind of bread Mara likes.

Adora selects the apples, sweet potatoes, and lemons that Mara plans to bake with over the next week. Mara has been doing really well lately, able to eat more and hold the food down, which is leaving her with more energy. Her doctors have all said that her body’s response to the chemo is encouraging, and Mara has also been energized by this, too. Adora wants to be encouraged, and she _is_ , she _really_ is, but she’s not ready to let her guard down over it.

Adora rounds the corner onto the next aisle and finds Catra, eyes wide and unfocused. She’s holding herself, her arms wrapped around her body, and she’s trembling. For a second, it’s as if a teenage Catra is standing in front of her, and Adora feels a surge of protectiveness, a certainty that she’ll do anything she can to shield Catra from whatever it is that’s making her look this panicked.

“Catra, what’s wrong?”

Catra doesn’t speak for a moment, and she takes a deep breath.

“I thought I saw—I thought I saw my mom. It wasn’t her, it just looked like her from the back for a second.”

Adora’s stomach plummets. It’s not like Adora and her mom ever ran in the same circles as Ms. Weaver, so even though she did think about the possibility of Catra’s mom being around town, she dismissed it, thinking they could probably avoid her. And they have, so far, but the look on Catra’s face makes Adora ache to defend her from anything and anyone who might try to hurt her. Adora reaches out to touch Catra’s shoulder, and Catra places her hand over Adora’s, seeming to appreciate the gesture.

“What can I do?” Adora asks.

Catra is still shaken, but she smiles a small smile. “I’ll be okay. Can we go?”

Adora nods. “Yeah, of course, we have everything. Come on.”

They check out quickly and take the groceries home, Adora watching Catra all the while. She’s particularly quiet as she helps Adora put everything away, until she turns to Adora and asks, “Can we go for a drive?”

Adora reaches out for Catra’s hand, who accepts it.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Adora takes them to the new drive through coffee place and orders a latte for Catra and a hot chocolate for herself. They go to the park not too far from the house, parking in front of the lake, the water sparkling in the bright winter sun. They take off their seatbelts and push their seats back, Adora crossing her legs under herself like she always does to get comfortable.

Catra wants to tell her. She’s scared to expose herself like this, to show Adora every fractured, ugly, secret part that she’s kept hidden for a reason, for longer than she’s even known Adora. She doesn’t want Adora to think of her differently, to see her differently. But she does want Adora to _see_ her, completely, so it might finally be time.

Adora sits quietly next to her, holding Catra’s hand. Catra reached out for Adora’s hand as soon as she parked the car, and Adora didn’t hesitate to thread their fingers together. Catra closes her eyes, steadying herself, then begins.

“Can I tell you about it?”

Adora squeezes her hand. “You can tell me anything.”

Catra believes her.

“My mom was never really like—well, like Mara is with you, I guess. We didn’t hug, or anything like that. We never said, ‘I love you.’ And she was always kind of aggressive, I guess? She’d shove me when she was annoyed or tired or something. But as I got older, it started getting . . . more. She started—hitting me. For everything. Not hard enough to leave a mark, at first, but enough to hurt. For moving the coffee maker to the left on the kitchen counter. For not putting the milk back in the same place in the fridge. For leaving a textbook on the dining room table. Anything could set her off. _Especially_ over grades. I got a B-plus on some stupid fucking Algebra exam and she shook me. Hard. I was dizzy for an hour.”

Adora shifts noticeably in her seat, and she doesn’t let go of Catra’s hand.

Catra keeps going.

“Then, the night she saw us, after the bonfire, she—choked me. For a while. I couldn’t breathe and for a second I really, I _really_ thought she might—”

Catra stops to breathe. Adora’s thumb strokes her hand.

“Senior year was . . . the worst it had ever been. I dreaded going home after school every day. I never knew what she—what would happen. I couldn’t anticipate it like I used to. Do you remember the day you found me in the bathroom? I was throwing up.”

Adora clutches her hand. “I remember.”

“I was so anxious, all the time. And because of that I was nauseated a lot of the time, too. It got to where sometimes I couldn’t keep food down.”

“And the thing is, it wasn't—it wasn’t bad _all_ the time. Sometimes she would tell me she was p-proud of me. Sometimes she’d be so gentle with me, and I could never figure out how to get more of that, how to make that part of her . . . stay.”

“After I left for Scorpia’s, I saw her one more time. I went back to the house a few months later to get some things I left behind while Scorpia waited for me in the car. I kind of lost it on her. I was crying and screaming at her and I asked her what I did, what I—what I could’ve _possibly_ done to make her treat me like that. Other than just being a lesbian, that is. She said that I’d never been anything more than a nuisance and a disappointment to her and that she was done with me.”

Catra has to stop to breathe, the sensation of a phantom hand tightening around her throat momentarily overwhelming her. She inhales and exhales once, twice. She closes her eyes and manages to continue.

“But you know what’s really fucked up? I haven’t spoken to her since then, and I don’t want to. And even with all of that, sometimes I still want her to love me.”

Catra has never said that part out loud to anyone except for a therapist. The shame of that, of still wanting the one love she knew she would never get, overwhelms her in the best of times. But saying it out loud here, now, actually makes that shame feel . . . smaller. Not insignificant, just more bearable.

Adora sniffles quietly beside her, still holding Catra’s hand, not letting go.

“When she made me end the friendship with you, all this anger I’d been holding back for years just . . . exploded. I was so angry, and I wanted to hurt myself, and you, and everyone else. I hated myself. I wanted to make everyone hurt like I hurt. So that’s what I tried to do. And the way I was to Scorpia and Entrapta . . . I was awful to them. Scorpia was the one who gave me the reality check I needed, but it was because she cared. They didn’t give up on me. Not _once_. I still wonder sometimes why they didn’t.”

“Because they love you,” Adora says.

Catra’s face crumples. “Yeah,” she says, her voice breaking. “They do.” 

She turns towards Adora, looking at her for the first time since she started talking. Adora’s eyes are shining and rimmed with red. She looks desperately sad, but there’s no judgement there, no disgust, none of the bad things Catra’s brain told her might be there.

“I was so fucked up, Adora. I didn’t know up from down for a year. I started drinking a lot. Sometimes I barely made it to my classes. One weekend I just didn’t get out of bed, at all. Scorpia finally dragged me out of bed and made me shower, got me to eat something, and helped me call the counseling center. It wasn’t fast, and it was really fucking hard, but it started to help. And a lot of the time, I—I was thinking about you. How I’d fucked up so bad with you. And I wanted to call you, but I was sure you hated me. I thought I’d ruined everything with you, forever. I didn’t think you’d ever be able to forgive me. And I was so messed up over everything that happened with my mom, so I just . . . tried to disappear.”

“I _never_ hated you.”

Catra’s heart constricts at the fierce conviction in Adora’s voice. Adora means it.

“You didn’t?”

“No. Not at all. I was just—sad. _So_ sad. I wanted to help you. I just wanted you to let me in. But I know now why you didn’t.”

Adora reaches for Catra’s other hand, holding both of them now.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know. Everything you were hiding . . . we were together all the time. I can’t—I can’t believe I didn’t know. I should’ve _known_.”

“Adora, no. I hid it on purpose, and I was good at it.” 

Adora’s voice is strained. “You must’ve been so scared.”

Catra nods. “I was also just—I was _so_ ashamed.”

Adora looks confused. “Catra, why were you ashamed?”

Catra pauses, and when she continues, her voice is tiny and shaky. 

“Because I was scared I deserved it.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Adora speaks. 

“Catra. Look at me.”

But Catra can’t. She keeps her head bowed, eyes trained on the gearshift between them.

Adora gingerly reaches out to touch Catra’s face, cradling her cheek. Adora repeats herself, softly.

“Look at me.”

Catra meets Adora’s eyes. Adora looks at Catra with so much care and empathy it makes Catra tremble. She doesn’t look away.

Adora holds her gaze. “You did _not_ deserve it. No one deserves to be treated that way. _Ever_. It wasn’t your fault.”

A small fissure inside Catra closes. There are more cracks, more tender places that still need tending to. But one of them at least, with these words, mends.

The tears Catra has been fighting back rush forward, slipping quickly down her cheeks.

“I don’t want to be like her.”

Adora lets go of Catra’s hand, but only so she can hold Catra’s face in both her hands, brushing Catra’s tears away with her thumbs.

“You are nothing like your mom, Catra. Not at all. You were in pain for a long time, and that pain made you lash out, but that’s not who you are. You are good, and loving, and your heart is so big. I think—I think that’s why you feel things _hard_ , harder than you sometimes know what to do with.”

Catra thinks that if it’s possible to be known, really known, at all, then that’s what she is with Adora. Known.

“You really think I’m good?” Catra asks.

Adora strokes Catra’s cheek gently, back and forth.

“Yes. I do.”

Catra smiles a watery smile.

“Okay, then.”

The chilly winter breeze creates ripples across the bright blue lake, and they exhale.

\------

The small balcony attached to Adora’s room faces the backyard. Moonlight slants across the yard through the bare branches of the sugar maple trees beyond the edge of Mara’s garden. 

“I can’t wait until you see it in the spring,” Adora told Catra earlier. “Mom and Hope spend hours out there together and it looks like a rainbow when everything blooms.”

Catra beamed at her. “I can’t wait, either.”

Adora loves picturing Catra here in the future. 

Adora takes a long drink from the cheap bottle of red wine she threw in the cart at the grocery store at the last second. The wine warms her from her lips to her toes, the cold night air not so biting under the layers of quilts and blankets they dragged out here when they decided they wanted to sit outside and look at the stars on this clear, quiet night. She hands the bottle to Catra, who does the same.

They’re sitting close, leaning on each other under their blankets, thighs touching, Catra resting her cheek on Adora’s shoulder. Adora is a little sleepy and a little tipsy, and so is Catra. Adora doesn’t want Catra to move, so she reaches her arm behind Catra and holds her by her waist, hoping this is okay, ready to let go if Catra doesn’t want it, if she tenses at all. But Catra huddles closer, and Adora’s fears dissipate.

It’s been a while since either of them spoke, eyes trained on the sky.

“Thank you,” Catra says.

“For what?” Adora asks.

“For bringing me home.”

Adora rests her cheek on top of Catra’s head and lets out a happy sigh.

“Thank you for _coming_ home.”

“I was scared,” Catra says, almost in a whisper.

“I know,” Adora replies. “Are you still scared?”

“No. It feels good. Really good. Right.”

Adora squeezes Catra’s hand under the blanket.

“You belong here.”

Catra gives a sharp intake of air, and Adora glances down at her to see her eyes shut tight, then open again.

“I missed you so much,” Catra whispers. “Sometimes I hated how much I missed you.”

It’s not as if Adora didn’t guess this, but hearing it is different.

“I missed _you_. It was all I could think about. For a long time.”

Adora brings Catra closer now, putting both arms around her, and they’re not pretending anymore, not pretending they don’t want to be close to each other. Catra burrows into Adora’s side, Adora’s hands clasped around Catra’s waist. Adora thinks this might actually, technically, constitute cuddling.

“I love the way you smell. You smell so good _all_ the time,” Adora says suddenly, before the words have even formed in her mind, before she even knows she’s going to say them.

Catra laughs, surprised. “Wait, what do I smell like?”

Adora blushes. “Just . . . like you. Like Catra.”

“But what’s that like?”

“Sweet. Like . . . like clean sheets and mint.”

Catra turns her head towards Adora, looking up into her eyes. The moon through the trees casts shadows on Catra’s face, and it could just be the wine, but Adora could swear that Catra blushes.

“I still have the ring you gave me,” she says. “On my 16th birthday? I still wear it sometimes.”

Something terribly tender inside Adora aches.

“You do?”

Catra nods. “Especially when I’m anxious. I—I was wearing it that first day in class, when I saw you again.”

Adora’s eyes widen. “Wait, really? I didn’t notice.”

“I kept my hand in my jacket pocket so you wouldn’t see.”

Adora leans down and presses her forehead to Catra’s, breathing in. Her head spins from the intimacy of this, from being huddled under the same blankets on a cold, clear night.

 _I could just lean forward. It would be easy_.

But Adora doesn’t move, and neither does Catra. Until Adora, so full of warmth and wine, kisses Catra’s forehead, lingering there for a few fleeting seconds. Catra places one hand on Adora’s flushed cheek, tracing the outline of Adora’s jaw, but she leaves it at that. They finish the bottle, and they agree, implicitly, to take it one step at a time. 

The next morning when they wake up, Adora’s arm is curled around Catra’s waist. Thinking Catra is still asleep, Adora goes to move it, but Catra stops her, lacing their fingers together and drawing Adora closer instead.

\------

Adora and Hope took Mara’s car to get an oil change, and now Mara and Catra are finishing up another episode of Mara’s show, one of her British murder mysteries that she loves. Catra didn’t care much what they watched at first; she was content to just sit with Mara. But now she’s been sucked in and she _needs_ to know what monster is terrorizing this tiny seaside English town. The episode ends and Catra is about to offer to make tea when Mara turns to her and takes Catra’s hand.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

There’s no mistaking Mara’s meaning. Catra wants to run. Her fight or flight response is telling her _flight_ but she can’t move. She looks at Mara, heart beginning to pound from the anxiety building inside her.

Mara covers their joined hands with her free hand.

“It’s okay, honey. I don’t want you to be scared, and you don’t have to tell me. But I want to know, if you’re ready.”

Catra breathes in, then out, then in again. There’s no reason to be afraid here. She doesn’t have to be afraid at all, and especially not of Mara, someone who has always been safe.

Catra swallows. “I’m ready.”

She tells Mara what she can manage to get out. She blushes when she gets to the part about the kiss, but Mara doesn’t look remotely surprised, which Catra decides to think about later. Mara’s expression doesn’t change from one of concern and compassion until Catra gets to the part about what happened after. Catra tells her about the words and actions her mother used to get Catra to crush whatever was between her and Adora with bare, ruthless hands. She doesn’t tell her everything she told Adora, but she tells her enough.

By the end, Mara is shaking, and at first Catra thinks she’s cold. She grabs the fleece blanket draped over the couch and starts to place it over Mara’s legs, but Mara waves her off.

“No, I’m fine, I just . . . Catra.”

Catra pauses, waiting.

“I can’t begin to imagine what that pain must’ve felt like,” Mara says, eyes shining. “I should’ve done more. Sometimes . . . sometimes it’s easy to think that it’s not your business, that it’s someone else’s child and you can’t interfere. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I knew something was wrong, and I didn’t act, and I should have. I’m so sorry.”

Mara grasps both of Catra’s hands. Now it’s Catra who’s shaking.

“I should’ve kicked that door down. I should’ve marched in there and demanded to know what was happening. You deserved that.”

Catra is crying now, crying like she doesn’t remember having cried before in her life. Mara’s arms surround her and hold her close, rocking her back and forth.

“Can you forgive me?”

Catra speaks through her tears. “It’s not your fault, Mara.”

“No. But I should’ve fought for you. You shouldn’t have been alone. You deserved to be fought for.”

Catra cries until she feels spent. Empty, but not in a bad way. Mara doesn’t let go.

Catra has never said it out loud before. Not to a therapist, not to Adora, not even to herself, at least not consciously. The question that’s been coiled inside of her since she was a little girl, since she became aware that anyone’s life or mother was different from her own. Here, with Mara, she finally feels able to give voice to it.

“Why didn’t she love me?”

Mara leans back enough to look at her.

“Some people never learn how to love. I don’t know why. Some people just never learn how. But someone’s inability to love you doesn’t make you unlovable. _You_ learned how to love."

Catra has never thought of it this way, that she was able to learn something her mother never could. Maybe that’s why they were so different.

“And Catra?” Mara says. “I love you.”

Catra clasps Mara’s hand. “I love you, too.”

“There is nothing wrong or bad about your love.”

Catra tucks the words away. If Mara says it, it must be true.

“Adora said I’m not like my mom,” Catra says, the words feeling truer now.

Mara smiles. “I completely agree.”

“Speaking of Adora,” Mara continues. “You love her.”

It’s not a question.

More tears appear in Catra’s eyes, but they’re different this time.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

“I hurt her.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s that. You apologized and you’re making it right. That’s what matters. And I think it’s clear that Adora forgives you.”

Catra tugs at the ends of her fingers. “I don’t understand how.”

Mara’s voice is so gentle. “Because you love each other.”

Catra shakes her head. “That—that’s crazy, though. Who meets the person they’re going to love when they’re 14?”

Mara’s eyes sparkle with kindness and a touch of humor. 

“Some people, it would seem.”

\------

When Adora and Hope get back, it’s clear that _something_ happened, but Adora doesn’t ask, and Catra is grateful.

“Are you ready to go?” Adora asks.

“Oh, I’m ready,” Catra replies. “You promised me a funnel cake, and I’m holding you to it.”

Adora laughs. “We’ll, I’m always good for my promises.”

“Have fun!” Mara calls after them as they leave, blowing a kiss to them both.

Catra hasn’t been to Etheria’s Winter Carnival since Scorpia dragged a very grumpy Catra there in senior year of high school. Then, Catra spent her time trying to avoid Adora, which kept her on edge for much of the night. As she climbs into Adora’s car, she’s struck by how much better this is, going _with_ Adora to meet Scorpia and Entrapta there. Entrapta drove down from Dryl to come with them, and Catra is excited. She misses them, a lot, and getting to have all three of them with her tonight is special.

The sweet, charred scent of the carnival on the cool night air greets them as they walk up to the ticket booth, the brilliant lights of the rides and booths illuminating everything around them in a golden glow, screams coming from the direction of the rollercoaster every few seconds.

Scorpia and Entrapta arrive, and it’s Catra who throws her arms around Scorpia, holding on tight, and Scorpia spins her around in a small circle, setting her down gently.

“Catra! We missed you so much! What have you been up to? How’s home? Oh, gosh, there’s so much to catch up on!”

Catra laughs, comforted by the familiarity of Scorpia’s excitement.

“I missed you, too. You’ll have to tell me everything about home.”

Catra turns to Entrapta, waiting to see if Entrapta wants to hug. Sometimes she does, and sometimes she doesn’t, and Catra always leaves it up to Entrapta to decide. This time she does, reaching her arms out for Catra, and Catra holds her close.

“I missed you, Entrapta.”

Entrapta grins. “I missed you, too. I’ve built so many prototypes for a new bot I designed.”

“I wanna see them.”

“Don’t worry, I have pictures.”

Catra smiles. “Good.”

Catra turns to see Scorpia hugging Adora, the two of them chattering to each other about something Catra missed, Scorpia making sweeping hand gestures all the while. Not for the first time, Catra observes that Adora and Scorpia are actually a lot alike.

The four of them walk aimlessly around the carnival, winding their way through game booths covered in stuffed animals and inflatable swords, food stands with deep fried everything. Adora gets Catra the promised funnel cake, and they share it while Entrapta and Scorpia work on a plate of fried oreos, telling Catra everything that’s gone on since they all left for break. Adora brushes powdered sugar from the corner of Catra’s mouth as if that’s a completely normal thing to do, as if it doesn’t distract Catra from everything going on around her for the next five minutes.

They stumble upon a booth with a balloon dart game where a sign says that popping five balloons in a row gets you a medium prize, but seven in a row means you can choose any prize you want. Adora, of course, wants the challenge, and immediately hands over seven tickets to the man running the booth, who lays out seven darts in front of her. She glances back at Catra and _winks_.

“When I win, you can choose the prize.”

“ _So_ cocky,” Catra replies, grinning.

Adora pops the first balloon, of course. Then she pops the second, and the third. When she also pops the fourth, the man stands up straighter, paying closer attention. With the fifth and sixth balloons popped, he looks back and forth between Adora and her last target. Catra actually holds her breath as Adora throws the last dart and pops the seventh balloon.

Scorpia cheers and Entrapta applauds. The man running the booth is flustered, annoyed that Adora managed to beat the challenge, and Catra is _useless_ , laughing so hard at the look on the man’s face that she can barely stand. Adora is hardly keeping it together herself, failing to hold back her own laughter, clearly pleased with herself.

Giggling, eyes sparkling, Adora turns back to Catra.

“Well? What’ll it be?”

Catra points at a small stuffed animal, an orange tabby kitten. The previously disgruntled man cheers up a bit when he realizes they’re not going to relieve him of one of his biggest prizes. He hands the stuffed kitten to Adora, who turns around and hands it to Catra.

“For you,” she says, beaming.

Catra can’t help but grin back at her. “You’re so satisfied with yourself, aren’t you?”

Adora raises one eyebrow. “Maybe I am. I’m pretty impressive, you know.”

“Yeah, you are,” Catra says.

Adora blushes a little bit at that, then puts her arm around Catra’s shoulders.

Scorpia enthusiastically congratulates Adora as Entrapta asks to hold the stuffed kitten for a while. They walk away from the booth and towards the rides, Adora’s arm still around Catra’s shoulders. 

A couple of hours later, Scorpia and Entrapta decide to call it a night, saying their goodbyes with hugs and promises to hang out together again soon.

“See you on Christmas!” Scorpia calls out to Catra as they walk away, and Catra waves, turning to Adora.

“I want to do one more thing.”

“Name it.”

“Ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

Catra climbs into the passenger car of the Ferris wheel and Adora follows her. Instead of sitting on the opposite side, Adora sits down next to Catra, resting her arm on the back of the bench behind Catra.

The teenage kid who helped them in shuts the gate and then they’re moving, slowly, up and up and up, and Catra leans into Adora’s side, settling part of her back against Adora’s front, and Adora immediately drops her arm from the back of the bench to rest it instead on Catra’s shoulder.

Catra closes her eyes and drinks in this feeling, Adora’s arm around her, the neon lights of the Ferris wheel rushing by in a multicolored blur. The carnival and the town beyond are spread out below them. It’s funny, seeing this place from up here for the first time in a long time. So much has happened to Catra in this town, good and bad and terrible, but from up here, it doesn’t overwhelm her, doesn’t seem all powerful.

The ride comes to a pause to let more people on, close to the top of the Ferris wheel, but not quite. A gentle wind swirls around them but Catra feels as if the whole world is paused, waiting for her to do something, waiting for her to be brave.

Adora bridged the gap last time. It’s Catra’s turn.

She turns towards Adora, stomach twisting, heart straining against her ribs, and places her hands gently on either side of Adora’s face. Catra looks into Adora’s eyes to check, to make sure this is okay before she does it. She finds Adora looking back at her in wonder and anticipation and something else. Longing.

Carefully, so carefully, Catra closes the last hairbreadth of space between them and softly presses her lips to Adora’s.

Adora responds immediately, cupping Catra’s face in her hands, effortlessly deepening the kiss. She never thought she’d kiss Adora again, but there’s a part of Catra that remembers this, a part of her that never forgot this feeling. Her thumbs stroke Adora’s smooth skin, the apples of her cheeks.

And then the ride starts again and they both start at the sudden movement. They break apart, but only for a moment because then Adora cups Catra’s chin in one hand and draws her in for another kiss, determined and sure, wrapping her other arm around Catra’s waist. She strokes her tongue into Catra’s mouth and Catra feels woozy, like she might be swept under by this, like she wouldn’t mind that at all.

They kiss for what feels like a very long time, but can’t be more than a few minutes. The ride comes to a stop once more, more people clambering on below them, and they break apart, breath mingling between them. Adora kisses Catra’s forehead, her cheeks, and her lips, one more time.

“I missed you,” she whispers.

Catra sighs. “I missed _you_.”

The last time they kissed, Catra floated into her house, weightless, 17 years old, and in love, and full of hope. All of it was taken from her seconds later in the form of a hand wrapped around her throat, furious threats thrown in her face. She didn’t have any time to savor those feelings, her first kiss.

This time, they drive home to Adora’s house, hand in hand, no one to stop them, nothing to be afraid of.

\------

They return home to a quiet house, the front porch light the only illumination in the hushed dark. They’re both a little giddy, whispers punctuated by bursts of laughter, shushing each other as Adora fumbles with her house key. They make it through the door and tiptoe up the stairs to Adora’s room, half-succeeding in avoiding the creakiest steps.

Adora is laughing at something Catra said when suddenly, alone together in Adora’s room, the air around them changes. It’s charged, sobering. Catra is standing so close to her that Adora can smell her shampoo, and she reaches out a hand to weave her fingers through Catra’s soft curls, her hand moving down to cradle her cheek. Catra looks up at her, bright eyes flashing.

“Kiss me.”

Adora captures Catra’s mouth in a hungry kiss. She’s starved for it and she wants _more_ . Her hands wander across Catra’s back, down to the hem of her sweater, under the fabric and around to trace Catra’s spine with light fingers. Catra shivers and goosebumps appear on her skin. Adora smiles into the kiss. _She_ has this effect on Catra. Adora breaks away, just barely.

“Is this alrig—”

“Adora. Don’t stop.”

That’s all she needs to hear.

Adora hooks her arms under Catra’s thighs, lifting her into her arms. Catra immediately links her legs around Adora’s waist as Adora carries her to the bed, laying her down on top of the unmade covers. Catra pulls Adora down on top of her, rolling them over until she’s straddling Adora’s lap.

Catra yanks her sweater up and over her head, revealing a thin, black lace bra and a lithe expanse of skin dusted with freckles. Adora returns to kissing Catra, moving her hands around to Catra’s back, finding her bra clasp and undoing it with one hand.

Catra smiles against Adora’s mouth. She leans back just enough to look Adora in the eye, grinning.

“Proud of yourself?” 

Adora smirks. “Maybe.”

Catra rolls her eyes but she hums when Adora palms her breasts in her hands, rolling one peaked nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Adora looks up at Catra.

“Your breasts are perfect.”

“They’re small.”

“Shh, I’m busy,” Adora says, kissing her way down Catra’s chest, and Catra laughs, but it turns into a gasp when Adora’s mouth closes over Catra’s nipple, gently tugging. Catra cradles Adora’s head in her hand and moans low in her throat.

Catra tugs at the hem of Adora’s sweater, pushing it up, and Adora understands, pulling her sweater over her head while Catra unbuttons Adora’s jeans, pulling them down and then off over her hips. Adora kicks them off the rest of the way as Catra cups Adora’s breasts in her hands, brushing a thumb over Adora’s pierced nipple.

Catra’s out of breath. “When did you get this?” 

Adora flushes, heart hammering from the intimacy of this moment, talking to Catra while she’s touching her like this. 

“My birthday last year. It was an impulse.”

“Impulsive Adora. I like the sound of that.”

Adora beams back at her, cheeks even rosier now. She likes that she surprised Catra, impressed her, even. But Catra still has far too many clothes on, so Adora grasps her hips and carefully turns her over onto her back, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down, tossing them onto the floor. Adora leans down over Catra until they’re skin to skin, Catra’s rapid heartbeat noticeable with the close contact.

Catra takes Adora’s hand and guides it between her legs.

“Touch me.”

Adora grins and slips her hand past the waistband of Catra’s underwear, down to where she’s wet and waiting. Catra groans and bucks against Adora’s hand and Adora has mercy on her, stroking slow circles where she’s the most sensitive, gratified by the sounds of Catra unraveling underneath her.

“Look at me,” Adora says.

Catra meets her eyes, all pink cheeks and swollen lips, a distinct shyness in her expression that makes Adora feel incredibly proud of herself and incredibly protective of Catra at the same time.

“You’re beautiful.”

Catra flushes a deeper shade of pink. Her chest heaves and her thighs tremble. 

“I always wanted you like this,” she breathes.

Adora brushes a kiss against Catra’s lips.

“You have me,” she whispers.

Adora kisses her way down Catra’s body, lingering on her neck, her chest, the smooth plane of her stomach. She reaches Catra’s hips, sliding her underwear off her body, and nudges her thighs apart. It’s not long before Catra’s hands are grasping the sheets and threaded in Adora’s hair as she comes apart under Adora’s mouth.

And soon it’s Adora on her back, writhing underneath Catra’s mouth, and it’s overpowering in a way she hopes consumes her. She’s burning up with it and she doesn’t care. Catra could burn her to the ground and she wouldn’t care.

But she wouldn’t, and she doesn’t, instead making Adora cry out, covering Adora’s mouth with her hand just in time, then lowering her body on top of Adora’s, both of them shaking and panting. 

Adora’s heartbeat thunders in her ears and they hold each other, coming down, tangled together.

Catra is resting her head on Adora’s chest, listening to the thrum of her heartbeat, the even rise and fall of her breathing. Adora is carding her fingers through Catra’s hair, massaging her scalp. The stars are still stuck to the ceiling above them, glowing in the dark, as they have been through all the years Catra has fallen asleep in this bed.

“I always wanted you like this, too,” Adora whispers.

Catra presses her lips to the hollow of Adora’s collarbone.

“You have me.”

Catra has slept in the same bed with Adora what feels like a hundred times. She’s woken up beside her on more lazy Saturday mornings than she can count. But coming to the next morning is different, with Adora’s bare, sleep-warm skin pressed against hers.

Adora speaks first.

“That was a good sleepover.” 

She looks so smug and cute and _happy_ , and Catra decides she wants to spend all her time making Adora smile at her like that.

“I’d go so far as to say it’s one of our best,” Catra replies.

Adora chuckles and swings one leg over Catra’s waist, burying her face in Catra’s chest, and they lie there, holding each other and whispering about nothing, until the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of the stereo reaches them from downstairs.

\------

Catra didn’t see most of the last four months coming, but making out with Adora in her car before a last-minute grocery run on Christmas Eve might be the most shocking. When this thought occurs to her, she can’t help but start laughing, happiness and shock and the sheer lucky coincidence of it all bubbling up inside her.

Adora looks at her, flushed and confused, but smiling. “What?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Catra has to stop to giggle, “we’re making out in your car, and tomorrow is Christmas, and I really can’t believe we got here.”

It’s Adora’s turn to laugh now, and they keep kissing through their laughter.

Mara and Hope are already asleep, having gone upstairs after what has become a nightly ritual of the four of them drinking tea at the kitchen table and playing cards. Catra is washing the mugs when Adora comes up behind her, wrapping her arms around Catra from behind. She kisses Catra’s temple.

“Let’s go for a drive.”

Catra turns around in Adora’s arms, smiling shyly.

“Let’s bring our presents, too.”

Adora drives them down Etheria’s main street, bright fairy lights strung up in the trees lining the road. Very few people are out at this time of night, the shops and restaurants having long since closed early for the holiday. She takes them back to the park, but this time she parks near the holiday lights display, hundreds of lights casting a multicolored glow on the trees around them.

“I want you to go first,” Adora says.

Catra raises her eyebrows. “Well, I’m very curious, so I’m not going to argue with you.”

Adora holds out a small rectangular gift covered in gold paper dotted with white stars. Catra accepts it, turning it over in her hands, purposefully tearing open the folded corners on the back. She peels back the paper to reveal a framed photograph.

In the photo, they’re sitting in a booth at the diner downtown. Adora’s arm is on the booth behind Catra, not around Catra’s shoulders, exactly, but almost. Adora is saying something in Catra’s ear, who’s leaning into Adora, and they’re smiling, stationary in the midst of a blur of people moving around the diner behind them.

Catra remembers this day well. It was one of the hottest days of that summer, heat rising from the pavement in waves. She and Adora spent all day at the pool, switching between lying out until they got too hot to stand it and swimming lazily, floating on their backs, the few clouds in the sky billowing past above them. Catra watched Adora’s hair flowing around her shoulders in the water, the drops sparkling on her eyelashes whenever she came up for air, the rivulets of water trailing down her back when they got out of the pool.

Lonnie, Kyle, Rogelio, Scorpia, and a few of Adora’s teammates met them at the diner that night, late, and they all ate too many pancakes and talked too loud and generally reveled in being free for a few more weeks before school started. There’s a bit of a glow to the two of them in the picture, partly from the bright lights of the diner above them, but also from their day spent entirely in the sun, Catra’s freckles even more pronounced than usual, Adora’s hair the lighter blonde it always changed to in the summer from spending all her time outside. They look young, and happy.

Catra’s fingers graze something on the back of the frame. She turns it over to find a small note taped there in Adora’s loopy handwriting.

  
  


_Catra,_

_I want us to remember that it was good. That we were good._

_I don’t regret it._

_Adora_

  
  


Tears gather in Catra’s eyes, and she doesn’t bother to try and hide them.

“Where did you get this? I’ve never seen this before.”

“This is the only one. Remember that disposable camera Lonnie used all summer? It’s from that. She gave it to me right before senior year.”

“And you kept it.”

“I kept it.”

Catra can’t articulate it right now, can’t put words to the emotions stirring inside her, so she hands Adora her present.

Adora eagerly tears open the hunter green paper to reveal a slim book with a dark blue cover. It’s the same book of poetry that Catra was reading from during the snowstorm weeks ago. Adora looks up at Catra, awed.

Catra inclines her head toward the book.

“Open it.”

Adora slowly opens the front cover to find a note in Catra’s angular script.

  
  


_Adora,_

_The first time I read this book, it made me feel like I had a life ahead of me. The second time, I was with you._

_Thank you for the answers._

_Catra_

  
  


Adora looks up. “You’re giving me your book.”

Catra blushes. “Do you like it?”

Adora pulls her into an enthusiastic kiss and Catra melts.

“I love it.”

It’s late. Christmas day was a blur of hugs, and laughter, and presents, and good food. Catra is sleepy and happy. How she ended up with not one, but two places to go on Christmas, both places where she’s loved and wanted when her own home was never that way, is a mystery to her. It’s one she’s glad to accept, though.

Adora is lying next to her on the bed, holding her hand, and Catra can hear the muffled voices of Mara and Hope downstairs, playing music and making their nightly tea for the four of them, when Adora speaks.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Are we dating?”

Catra rolls over onto her side to face Adora and laughs. 

“Um, I _hope_ so?”

Adora blushes. “Well, it feels important to ask!”

Catra taps Adora on the nose, and Adora crinkles her nose. “I’m just teasing. Are you asking?”

“Yeah,” Adora says, seriously. “I am. Will you be my girlfriend?”

A thrill runs up Catra’s spine and she has to take a moment to catch her breath. Part of her wishes she could go back and tell her teenage self that this is in her future. But what a _good_ surprise it is.

“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

A slow smile begins at the corner of Adora’s mouth, and then she’s beaming, pulling Catra closer, kissing her. Catra can’t get over it, Adora’s smooth skin and soft lips, trailing her fingers along Adora’s sharp jawline.

“I think I was a little scared to ask,” Adora says.

“Wait, why?”

“I don’t know, I just . . . I don’t want to lose you again. I want to keep you. Not that you, like, belong to me, or anything, I just mean—”

Catra kisses her, cutting off Adora’s increasingly rapid speech. Her heart is thrashing about in her chest, but she knows she means it, and she knows she wants to say it.

“Don’t you get it? I love you. I always have.”

Adora’s eyes are wide, her lips parted.

“You love me?”

Catra can’t help but laugh at the joyful, stunned expression on Adora’s face.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Adora’s expression softens, transforming into one that Catra has seen many times before, now that she thinks about it.

“I love you, too.”

Now Catra is the one who’s stunned. She wasn’t totally anticipating hearing it back for some reason. She practically leaps on top of Adora and kisses her, a delighted squeal emanating from Adora as she catches her.

\------

It’s a warm morning on Catra’s second first day at Bright Moon University because she wakes up next to Adora.

Adora is sleeping soundly next to her, on her side with her knees tucked into her chest, her fists tucked under her chin like she sleeps sometimes, her hair splayed out across her pillow like a sunburst.

Catra picks up her phone from the nightstand to check the time. She’s still got an hour until her first class, but she hates even the risk of being late, so she decides she might as well go ahead and get up. She gradually moves the covers off of herself, inch by inch, trying not to disturb Adora, whose first class isn’t until later this afternoon.

It doesn’t work, though, because Adora stirs as Catra attempts to swing her legs off the side of the bed. Adora cracks one eye open, taking in the sight of Catra trying to sneak out of bed.

“Mmmm, no, come back,” Adora groans, tugging at Catra’s shirt, trying to get her to lay back down. “It’s cold in here without you.”

Catra laughs quietly. “I have to get ready for class,” but she lets Adora pull her back under the covers, not ready to give up the peaceful cocoon of Adora’s bed and Adora’s arms quite yet. Adora molds Catra to her body, tucking her head under Adora’s chin, rubbing Catra’s back in circles. Catra sighs, and her body _betrays_ her, sinking deeper into the covers and Adora, and not wanting to get back out, ever.

Adora’s hands continue to roam over Catra’s back and then around to her front, one hand slipping under Catra’s oversized t-shirt and then up, the other reaching just below the waistband of her sleep shorts. Catra shivers, but not from cold.

“Adora, we don’t have time.”

Adora kisses her neck. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“I do _not_ want to wake Glimmer. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling she might hold that against me forever.”

Adora flashes her a shit-eating grin. “It’s not my fault when you’re loud.”

“It’s actually completely your fault when I’m loud!”

Adora laughs, a rumble against Catra’s chest, and she moves her hands to Catra’s face instead, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Glimmer _is_ a nightmare when she’s woken up before she’s ready.”

Catra traces a finger down Adora’s nose, lips, and chin.

“We’ll have time after our date tonight,” she whispers. 

Adora brightens.

“Go get ready. I’m gonna make you some toast. I don’t want you going to class on an empty stomach.”

Catra’s heart clenches. She just _does_ things like this, all the time.

“I love you.”

Adora sticks her tongue out at her. “I love you, too.”

Unlike the last one, this senior year is really good.

Adora is playing her last game at BMU, ever, and she feels anxious to go out on a high note, sad that this part is ending, but excited that the people she loves are here.

When she looks out into the stands, Catra is there watching her, smiling wide, sandwiched in between a cheering Scorpia and Bow. Glimmer, Entrapta, Mara, and Hope finish out the row, and Adora feels ready.

When they win, Catra moves towards her through the crush of cheering people, and the memory of another night like this one, years ago now, with a younger, more timid Catra flashes across Adora’s mind’s eye. But here, now, Catra jumps into Adora’s arms, throwing her arms around Adora’s neck. Adora holds onto her.

“Did you see?!” Adora exclaims.

Catra laughs and hugs her tighter.

“Yes, dummy, I saw!”

Adora sets Catra down on the ground and kisses her right there on the field, her teammates whooping and cheering around them.

It feels so surreal, Adora barely remembers walking across the stage at graduation. She does, however, remember the rest of the day. Hugging Bow and Glimmer when they met up after the ceremony, Catra and Glimmer pouring four different kinds of alcohol into a punch bowl and refusing to tell anyone what was in it, Scorpia’s vast array of miniature desserts (at Entrapta’s request, of course).

Mara is all happy tears and pride, and she must take dozens upon dozens of pictures throughout the day. Adora’s favorite, though, ends up being one she didn’t know was being taken. She and Catra are sitting on the couch in Catra’s apartment a couple of hours after the ceremony, still in their caps and gowns, Catra’s legs draped across Adora’s lap. Adora is animatedly saying something to Catra, who’s watching Adora with a contented smile.

That picture stays with them for a long, long time.

\------

_One year later_

  
  
  
  
  


The backyard is covered in bluebells.

Adora winds her way through the white chairs set up in rows with an aisle between them, hugging her mom’s family members as she passes them by.

“Look at you, Adora! All grown up!”

“Adora! You have your mother’s smile.”

“I haven’t seen you since you were this high!”

Adora smiles and hugs them all, any awkwardness she might have felt in different circumstances eclipsed by the sheer joy of this day, this day that might not have happened for a hundred reasons but is happening anyway. Adora could burst with the gratitude filling her up right now.

She walks into the back door of the house, careful not to catch her dress on anything, and looks around for Catra. She’s supposed to be back from having a “one-on-one conversation” with the caterer that Adora would not want to be on the receiving end of, based on the look on Catra’s face. It was something about meatballs, or crab puffs, or something. Honestly, Adora hadn’t been paying all that much attention, happily handing that responsibility over to Catra in favor of looking after her mom. She makes her way up the stairs to her mom’s room, holding up the long skirt of her dress, a sage green that reminded her of her mom’s garden when she saw it, as she ascends the steps.

“Mama?” Adora calls out, knocking lightly on the door.

“Come in, my love!” Mara calls out.

Adora opens the door, finding her mom standing in front of the floor length mirror in the far corner of Mara’s room.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, honey. Can you zip me up?”

Adora can’t respond, though, because she’s completely frozen, awestruck by the sight of Mara in her wedding dress. It’s simple, a floor-length, white crepe slip gown. It’s perfect on her. Mara’s hair, grown out just past her chin now, is dark and wavy and swept to one side. Mara turns around to look at Adora and suddenly Adora can’t say anything, any words she might have spoken caught in her throat.

“Adora?” Mara says. “Is everything alright?”

Adora manages to regain control of her voice, but there are tears in her eyes.

“Mama, you’re so beautiful.”

Mara’s face crumples. “This has to be the hundredth time I’ve cried today.”

Mara opens her arms and Adora goes to her, trying not to crush her mom’s dress too much as Mara holds her close. Mara strokes Adora’s hair, kissing her forehead.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Mama. I’m so happy for you.”

“Oh, baby. I’m so happy. For all of us.”

Adora wipes the last of her tears from her eyes, laughing.

“We’re a _mess_. Have we stopped crying at all in the last 24 hours?”

Mara laughs now, too. “Honestly, no, I don’t think we have.”

This sends them into a bout of excited, relieved, slightly hysterical giggles. The joy filling this room wraps around Adora. There’s so much to celebrate.

Yesterday, Mara got the call that she’s in complete remission. 

Mara, Hope, Adora, and Catra sat around the kitchen table after the call, alternating between crying and laughing. Hope held Mara close, covering her face in kisses.

“And tomorrow, we’re getting married,” Hope said.

That set them all off again and they were all useless for another hour.

“Where’s Hope?” Mara asks now.

“She’s getting the rings and making sure everything’s all set.”

Mara smiles dreamily. “I love her.”

Adora bursts into another stream of giggles at her mom’s sweet, extremely obvious statement.

“Well, good, since you’re marrying her! I love her, too.”

Mara squeezes Adora’s hands in hers. “And she loves you, baby. Which only made me love her more.”

There’s another knock at the door now. 

“Come in!” Mara calls out.

The door opens slowly and Catra peeks around it, and she gasps as she walks into the room and sees Mara.

“You’re beautiful, Mara.”

“Aww, thank you, my love. _You’re_ beautiful! I love your jumpsuit!”

Catra shuffles on her bare feet, smiling shyly. “Thank you.”

And she is. Catra’s jumpsuit is a dusky blue with flowing pants, a deep V neckline that extends down to the cinched empire waist. Her silver ring with the single star on the top of the band glints on her hand.

Adora slips an arm around Catra’s waist, laughing, pulling her in close. “Where are your shoes?”

Catra smirks. “They’re around. I’ll put them on before the ceremony.” She turns to Mara. “I talked to the caterer, and we’re seeing eye to eye again, so don’t worry.”

“Wait, what exactly were they trying to do?” Mara asks.

“They were _trying_ to say that we didn’t order double crab puffs when I know for a fact that we did. Also, you’re getting all the glassware for free.”

Mara laughs a deep belly laugh. “I’m really glad I have you in my corner, Catra.”

Catra beams.

Mara holds out one hand to Adora and the other to Catra, and they both take it.

“How lucky am I that I have both my favorite girls with me today?”

Mara folds them both into a hug and Adora’s body eases into the embrace.

_Lucky._

“Wait, what did he say then?” Glimmer asks.

“He said, ‘That’s not on the invoice,’ and I said, ‘Yes, it is,’ and he said, ‘I don’t think so,’ and I said, ‘Well, I have the invoice right here,’ and then I showed it to him, and he was also just tired of me by that point, so I won,” Catra says proudly.

“Ugh, excellent work.”

“Thank you, I agree.”

Glimmer holds up her glass of wine to Catra’s and they clink glasses.

Glimmer smiles against her glass now, inclining her head to something past Catra’s shoulder. Before Catra can turn around, Adora is behind her, circling her arms around Catra’s waist. Adora kisses Catra on her cheek, a gentle heat blooming across Catra’s cheeks at the surprise.

“Hey, you two,” Adora says. “Mom and Hope are about to have their first dance.”

Glimmer gasps. “Oh, this is my _favorite_ part. I’m gonna go get Bow!”

Glimmer rushes off, and Catra turns around in Adora’s arms, curving her own around Adora’s neck.

“You’re especially cute today,” Catra says.

“Oh, am I?” Adora says, smiling down at her.

“Mhmm. You look happy.”

Adora touches her forehead to Catra’s. “I _am_ happy.”

Adora kisses her, and Catra knows people are looking, can see, but she also knows they’re safe. She kisses Adora back, letting the music coming from the dance floor, the hum of voices of wedding guests milling about, and the scent of the blooming garden surround her.

“You promised me a dance today,” Adora says against her lips, beginning to lead Catra by the hand in the direction of the dance floor to wait for Hope and Mara.

“I’m good for my promises,” Catra grins, following her.

\------

Three years later, Catra and Adora are in Mara’s backyard for another wedding. It’s spring, and the flowers are blooming.

Catra wears another jumpsuit.

Adora opts for a dress.

It’s actually even better than the last time, though. Because this time, it’s their wedding.

They’re both good for their promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOOOOO THEY DID IT FOLKS
> 
> Not one but TWO weddings!!! I told y’all it would be a happy ending!!
> 
> I cried when I was writing the scene where adora sees mara in her wedding dress?? Also bluebells symbolize everlasting love 🙃
> 
> I can’t tell y’all how much I loved writing this. I’m truly going to miss it and I’m sad to see it end! It’s burrowed its way into my heart. I might even add a one shot in this universe here and there if it strikes me. I have more headcanons that might be fun to play with, like what happens in the years before they get married, if catra ever sees her mom again, etc., so we’ll see!
> 
> Another huge thank you to my dear friend and beta vanessa who fielded every incredibly specific question I had about her high school experience, screamed with me over facetime because we are IN this pandemic, and generally made writing this even more fun than it had any right to be. I also refused to show her the very last bit of this so she just read it lol LOVE YOU V
> 
> Please tell me what you think! Comments are worth their weight in gold and are so encouraging and sometimes really help me keep writing. I love hearing your thoughts 💛
> 
> And in case you need to hear it (because I did), someone’s inability to love you doesn’t make you unlovable. I wish you all the love in the world, and so do our favorite lesbians
> 
> Come talk to me on my SPOP twitter (@adoralovesgirls)!

**Author's Note:**

> did you know that comments are 90% of a healthy fanfic writer’s diet
> 
> I had so much fun with this!! and this fic 100% has a happy ending, as is always the case with me. It’ll likely be two parts, and most of the rest is already written! I’m going to try to have it up in the next two weeks or so, maybe less
> 
> this is what I picture Catra's ring to look like: https://www.etsy.com/listing/604082671/tiny-star-ring-in-sterling-silver?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=silver+star+ring&ref=sr_gallery-1-5&organic_search_click=1
> 
> come talk to me on my SPOP twitter (@ adoralovesgirls) and tumblr (seethingandsacred dot tumblr dot com)! I’m friendly and I love to talk lol


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